My Bestfriend's Girlfriend
by Sloshi
Summary: Because nothing hurts more than watching the one you love, love somebody else. Sasusaku. Sweet!Sasuke. Angst/Smut. Modern AU. (Very rated XXX.)
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING**: There will be **graphic** depictions of sex in this fic, as well as NaruSaku cheating. If this is not your kind of story, please do not read any further. Also some OOCness.

**A/N:** So this was a side-project I began during Finals week to specifically avoid writing my 8 page ethics paper. I debated on actually uploading just because of the story's nature and the extremely graphic lemons; I figured I'd probably get many flames, but what the heck. This fic was supposed to be a SHORT project, but so far I have about 7 chapters written. I guess we'll just have to see, as I also need to work on Captain! xD The last thing i'd like to mention: Although his parents are dead in this fic, this Sasuke is a non-mass Sasuke, and he's very much how i'd imagine to be without having witnessed a murder at 8 years old.

_**My Bestfriend's Girlfriend**_

Chapter one

x

**One Year Earlier **

.

.

.

Regret.

A feeling all too familiar for 21 year old sophomore law student; Sasuke Uchiha.

There isn't a moment he doesn't feel it—not a day that goes by that it doesn't flirt with his mind, taunting and teasing him with _what could have been. _

Of course, there are times when the regret is more tolerable than others. Like the times he's four hours deep in his studies on the fifth floor of the library; far, far away from reality, where he can pretend that he is happy with himself—with his choices.

Or the times when sleep doesn't find him and he trudges to the bars downtown, long after midnight. Where he throws back shot after shot and the acrid burn of whisky glides down the tight walls of his throat just before he puts his head down on the sticky bar top.

But as he sits in the middle of the Student Union across the table from his two best friends—whom are very openly in a relationship—it's especially times like these when regret comes back with a fiery vengeance, a sharp dagger twisting in his chest and a foul bitterness in the back of his throat as the Uchiha is forced to avert his gaze with every peck of the lips, every sweet giggle, every brush of _his_ tan fingers through her pink hair.

Sasuke looks up at the high-vaulted ceiling, at the several wall-mounted TVs around the room, at a therapy dog's panting tongue as it stares at him from under a table across the room as if it can sense his discomfort—anywhere but the couple right in front of him.

Naruto leans in and whispers into her ear, thinking his deep voice has some semblance of secrecy.

It doesn't.

"I love you, Sakura."

She blushes, hiding her coy smile behind a sip of cola that Sasuke knows is diet; no ice.

He also knows, without looking, that the half eaten sandwich on her plate is absent of pickles, dotted with light mayo, extra cheese, and no onions. He knows, without checking, that her fries are lightly salted and that the prongs of her plastic fork are snapped off because of her irrational superstition that unused plastic utensils are bad luck.

He knows, without checking under the table, that her right foot is tapping. A childlike tic she does when she's feeling particularly fidgety and bit bashful—a habit she's had since they were eight years old.

Sasuke inhales sharply before breathing out slow and steady, once again averting his obsidian eyes and taking an absent sip of water when Naruto feeds her a fry.

It isn't that he isn't happy for his two best friends.

But as Sasuke chances another look across the table, unconsciously glaring at the blond idiot of a guy he considers his brother on a good day, he can't help but think the same selfish sentence he's been torturing himself with for the last six years now.

_That should be me._

Not Naruto and Sakura.

Not Sakura and Naruto.

Sasuke and Sakura.

It has a ring to it, he thinks, even as Naruto obnoxiously pecks her cheek once more, not even bothering to hide their wanton display of affection in front of the third member of their trio.

Most days, he thinks he's used to it. After six years, he should be.

But it's times like these, as they sit in front of him and openly taunt him with what he can never have, that he knows he'll never be used to it.

Sasuke closes his eyes, swallowing his petty jealousy with another swig of water.

It's his own fault, he knows; he is the only one to blame in this fucked up equation. Knows just how terribly he screwed up once upon a time.

_'I love you so much I can't even stand it.'_

The whisper of an anguished Sakura pouring her heart out to him on her twelfth birthday party in the blackness of her closet—the result of the two of them having been chosen in a stupid game of _7 minutes in heaven_—plays more frequently in his head than should ever be allowed.

But his own voice from that evening haunts him even more.

_'Learn how to take a hint, Sakura. If love is what you want, Naruto's right outside. But leave me out of it. You and me are just friends—that's all we've ever been and that's all we'll ever be. So don't fuck this up between us.'_

At twelve years old, girls were the last thing that had been on Sasuke's mind. Let alone love in any form. And with six minutes still to spare, he had left the closet without so much as a glance back.

And he knows now that if he would have, he would have seen for himself the permanent way in which her heart shattered into a million pieces—the way her face crumpled with grief, tears trembling around her red-rimmed eyes before they slid down her cheeks and collided beneath her quivering chin.

Instead, he had simply returned to his spot in the circle just outside, cross-legged and uncaring, where all of their friends looked to him in confusion before Sakura burst from the closet in a mess of tears. She had ran up to her room and hadn't come out for the rest of the night.

Needless to say, her birthday had ended the moment she slammed the door shut.

_'What the hell did you do to her in there!?' _Naruto had jumped to his feet and stomped over to him, snarling before he shoved Sasuke's chest with a force that nearly knocked him onto his back.

_Broke her heart_, he should have said and let the idiot beat his ass right then and there, like he so rightfully deserved.

Instead, unbothered and cruel, he had simply looked up at Naruto with nothing but emptiness in his onyx eyes: _'Nothing she won't remember in a day or two.'_

But nine years later, he knows it's the one thing she _does_ remember.

To this day, that hesitance still lingers in her eyes when she looks at him sometimes. When she smiles at him. When she laughs with him. Always it is there; as if even the tiniest slip up might provoke him into repeating those same words he had said to her that night all those years ago, no matter how irrational the idea may be.

Every shared glance is a sickening reminder of his mistake. Of what could have been, and what will never be. A reminder that his distant words echo in her heart as much as it does his.

Back then, he saw it every time she looked at him, too. The hesitance in her emerald orbs every time they hung out together, the few inches she would put between them when they sat next to one another—at school, at the dinner table of Naruto's house, on her living room couch where they used to comfortably fall asleep on each other as the credits screen rolled on the TV before them.

The dwindling frequency of her texts, the slow but sure distance she had begun to put between them without him even realizing it.

All of the signs had been there—all the little ways in which she had been slipping from his fingers. Ways in which she had begun to trail behind him instead of next to him when the three of them walked home from school, ways in which she switched seats at the lunch table so that she didn't have to look at him, ways in which she stopped calling the house and Itachi had to double check with her parents to make sure she had been okay.

All of it had been happening right in front of him.

He had just never thought to look.

And over the painful period of their childhood, she had begun to gravitate towards Naruto—filled the gap in her heart with the next best thing. The white knight in shining armor, given reason to grow closer to her all because Sasuke had been a blind fucking fool.

Although she and Sasuke had managed to remain best friends, grew even closer in their adult years—ever since that day, an invisible wall had slowly wedged between them, brick by brick; built by his own callous words.

Words he should have never, _ever_ said.

Words he still thinks about every night before he closes his eyes and begs the universe for sleep.

And as he looks at her now, across the table but worlds apart, he wishes more than anything that he could take it all back. Wishes he could relive that night all over again. But instead of taking a sledge hammer to her twelve year old heart, he would slam his lips upon hers and spend far more than just 7 minutes in that stuffy little closet.

Regret—so much of it. And everyday that he sees her pretty little smile, full of so much kindness and affection, not for him but for _Naruto_, it tears him apart just a bit more.

Because as it was, it had been far too late.

Too late that Sasuke realized he's in love with Sakura Haruno, and has been for a very, very long time.

And nothing hurts more than watching the one you love, love somebody else.

* * *

**A/N:** Please don't forget to review and let me know what you think! :D ~Sloshi


	2. Chapter 2

_**My Bestfriend's Girlfriend**_

Chapter two

x

Sasuke was just sixteen when he first realized that he loved her.

Four long years after those bitter words he spat, he realized his crippling mistake.

He had been sick. Very sick, actually; running a fever of 103 and bedridden for almost two weeks. And as agonizing as it has been, between attempting to breathe through a clogged nose, swallowing against the raw tightness of his throat, buried under mounds of blankets that he had to constantly throw off in the midst of hot flashes—there was only one thing in the world that made those fourteen days bearable.

It came in the form of pink hair, rosy cheeks, and shy green eyes.

Everyday, she would come to his house. With her novice medical expertise, Itachi would reluctantly allow her a limited amount of time to spend at his bedside, where she cut up apples, brought him soup, fixed his blankets, laid cold cloths on his feverishly clammy forehead and replaced them when they grew lukewarm.

But above all else, beyond all the kind little things she had done, she would do this—this _thing_. This one, tiny thing that he will never forget.

She would enter his bedroom as usual, greeting him with a pretty smile as she clutched a bag of goodies in her hands.

_'Hi, Sasuke. Are you feeling better yet?'_

Beneath sweaty dark bangs, his heavy-lidded eyes could only follow her form in silence as she happily made her way to his bedside. She would plop down in the chair that she had brought into his room the first day she came to visit him, and after setting her bag onto the wooden floor next to the bed, after checking the progression of his fever and making sure he wasn't in any pain—

She would reach over and gently brush the bangs out of his eyes, away from his flushed cheeks, and then her small fingers would fall to his arm where she would absentmindedly trail them up and down his skin. So softly, almost ticklish, she would caress him in a way that made his already heavy eyes droop further.

But never did he take his eyes off her. Nor did he ever flinch away from her intimate touch.

Blinking slowly, he would simply watch her, watch him.

And in the serene silence, with her fingers lightly gliding along his flushed skin and their eyes never breaking away from one another—he realized he never wanted her to look at him any other way than the way she looked at him then.

With such an overwhelming amount of love and caring in those soft green eyes, his heart rate had sped up to an almost noticeable degree.

After a long while, when the sun would melt over the horizon and spill into the room and along his bed, she would fall asleep on him, fingers still and unmoving on his arm where she had fallen asleep mid-caress, long pink hair splayed over his covered abdomen, breath puffing out of her parted lips as she slept soundly.

With her cheek pressed against the cotton blanket on his stomach, he would reach out, brush his fingers through her pink hair and out of the peace softening her features, and just watch the golden sunset paint her beautiful face.

Everyday that she did this, his heart swelled just a little more. Slowly, but surely, as if those two weeks had been his god given trial of love, he began to come to terms with the strange butterflies in his stomach that he had always, until then, assumed was normal.

Bedridden and with no other way to distract himself, he had been forced to properly stew in his feelings, hard obsidian eyes focused on his ceiling. He had no other choice than to think about _her, _and the way her sweet scent lingered on his clothes, his blankets, his skin.

About how much he hated it when she left. And how much he missed her when she was gone.

And on the final day, two weeks later, as she had laid sleeping at his side this time, having crawled in bed with him after stubbornly claiming her immune system was made of steel, he had rolled sideways to face her and slowly removed her fingers that had fallen asleep on his arm after nearly an hour of her relaxing caress.

Intertwining his fingers with hers, he looked at her then. _Really_ looked at her.

As if she could feel the weight of his gaze through the veil of her light slumber, her eyelids cracked open.

And when their eyes met, it was at that moment, with her an inch away from his face, with the sleepy affection in those glazed emerald orbs lit by the golden splash of sunlight peeking through the window behind him, and the sudden jolt of electricity shooting through his veins—it was then, as his pupils dilated and his heart burst into an unforgiving rhythm, that he realized that he loved her.

He loved her, he had to repeat to himself, startled by the incredible epiphany and suddenly short of breath.

It was as if the girl laying in bed with him had suddenly become an entirely different person. As if some blindfold was ripped off of his eyes, forcing him to see light in front of him—forcing him to see the girl before him not for what he had always thought she had been, but for what she actually was.

A lover. A wife. A future mother.

He saw it all flash before him—a vision with her swollen belly and him embracing her from behind.

A house, a family, a _future_.

_I love her_, his mind echoed. But he didn't just love her; all twelve years of their friendship flickered before his eyes like the whirring spool of film. Every time she was there for him, every time she picked him up when he was down, every time she looked at him as if he were the most perfect human being on the planet, every laugh, every smile, every time she held him in her embrace a little longer than what was considered _just_ friends.

He didn't just love her: he was _in_ love with her.

Through the rawness of his throat, he had opened his mouth to tell her just that—

_'What the hell are you doing in his bed?' _Itachi had snapped from the open threshold, suspicious and perhaps a little angry at the inappropriate scene he just walked in on.

And just like that, with her fingers slipping right out of his, she slipped right out of his future—she jumped from the bed and gathered her things, stuttering out a string of embarrassed apologizes before she scuttled out the door, ducking beneath Itachi's disapproving glare.

Later that evening, Naruto asked her to be his girlfriend.

She said yes.

Sasuke didn't come back to school the next day.

\- x -

**Now**

"Sasuke?" Comes a muffled call from the bathroom, where she's been getting ready for the last half hour.

Sasuke pauses the show on TV and is off the couch and at the bathroom door within seconds. "I'm here."

_Always, I am here. _

"Can you text Naruto not to forget about dinner later?" Through the closed door, he hears her set something on the counter, perhaps a tool for her hair. There's a shuffle of noise that suggests she picks the object back up. He presses his ear against the door to hear better. "He forgot last night again and I—_ouch_!" The object clatters to the countertop.

The usual spark of anger directed towards Naruto is eclipsed by concern and Sasuke presses himself against the door a little more firmly. "Sakura? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I just—ow. I accidentally burnt my finger on my straighter."

"I'll get you some ice." Sasuke is in the kitchen before she has the chance to protest. He knows very well she can simply run her finger under cold tap water, but as he scoops some ice from the freezer into a little baggie, he also knows that he will never waste a single opportunity to take care of her, no matter how small.

After all she's ever done for him, it's the least he can do.

So when he softly knocks on the bathroom door, a flood of relief warms his chest when she opens the door with a grateful smile as she accepts his meek offering. "You didn't have to do that, Sasuke." She scolds, but there isn't a drop of disappointment in her voice. "It's just a small burn. See?"

She holds up her index finger to prove it, showcasing the tiny red mark with a cheeky grin.

"I see." Sasuke says absently, eyes immediately flickering from the small burn on her finger to her body when he registers what exactly she has on—more specifically, what she _doesn't_ have on.

His eyes fix on her deep cleavage, poking out of the skin-tight tank top clinging to her torso. And the faint outline of her nipples through the taut white fabric.

Sasuke jerks his head away, ears burning.

"I'll—I'll leave you to it." He pushes the baggie into her hands and retreats back to the couch as quickly as he came, snatching the remote off the coffee table and resuming the show he hadn't been paying attention to in the first place. He tries to pretend the image isn't now ingrained in his head.

Of course, there's been several times over the past six months of him living with the couple that he's encountered some serious close calls.

Such as once when Sakura hadn't realized Sasuke had been home, and had bravely strutted around the kitchen as naked as the day she was born, pink hair twisted up in a towel on her head.

And when Sasuke came around the corner, totally unprepared, he choked on his spit when he saw her bent over the fridge, several pages of notes to a case he had just been assigned bursting out of his hands in his surprise.

Sakura whipped around with an ear-piercing scream that had him covering his eyes and bolting away—only to blindly smack right into the kitchen wall just inches shy from the hallway. Stumbling backwards and recovering faster than he ever has in his life, he raced down the hall back to his room at lightning speed, door slammed shut.

Needless to say, after spending the entire rest of the day sitting through classes without listening to a single lecture—unable to forget the vivid image of her round bare ass and the exposed place between her thighs that he _definitely_ saw—that same night, he couldn't help but slip a hand beneath his waistband the second he crawled into bed to release the pulsing need between his thighs that had been aching all day.

He came with shame, but it wasn't as if it was _his_ fault that the girl of his dreams had decided to prance around butt ass naked in the kitchen, bare to his unexpected gaze.

Shuddering at the image that still teases his memory—and always will—he tries to ignore the pang of a arousal between his legs, shifting on the couch and hoping to find some semblance of mercy. He takes a deep breath and tries to fix his eyes on the show before him.

One might wonder why he lives with his best friend and the girl he's desperately in love with, especially considering the two are in a heavily committed relationship. One might wonder why he would intentionally put himself through this special kind of hell.

But the truth is, Naruto hadn't broken the news to him that Sakura would be moving in with them until the day _of_—after he had already gone and put down for the deposit and signed the lease for the apartment.

In which Sasuke had to lay in bed that very first night, along with many others to follow, and listen to the headboard slam against his wall from the other side, over and over and over again.

Along with Sakura's muffled cries of pleasure.

Sasuke's heart cracked a little more with every violent thump against his own headboard. Wide eyes fixed on the ceiling, he paled with the realization that he would be hearing this tortuous ruckus from then onwards. Traumatized, it was only then that he truly realized just how fucked up this living situation was.

He had simply snatched a pillow and pulled it over his ears. But it wasn't until long after they quit fucking that the glossy red sting of Sasuke's eyes retreated and he fell asleep with the pillow over his head.

Sasuke shifts on the couch once more, sighing heavily. And for a second, he thinks he might actually be able to relax—

"_SAKURAAAA!_" The boisterously dramatic voice from the entry way has Sasuke cringing. He reaches for the remote and turns up the TV by six notches. When Naruto reaches the living room, he greets cheerfully; "Oh, hey bastard."

Sasuke holds up a lazy hand in response, eyes straining to concentrate on the TV.

"Where's Sakura?" He asks, throwing his keys and book bag carelessly on the kitchen table.

"Bathroom." Sasuke replies curtly, before suddenly remembering something. He turns to look over his shoulder and says with a bit of reluctance, "Sakura said don't forget about dinner."

Cerulean eyes widen. "Shit."

His teeth clench at the idiot's ability to forget something that's clearly so special to Sakura, but he merely turns back to the TV without another word, knowing better than to involve himself with their personal buisness.

Even if he wants nothing more than to punch Naruto in the fucking face every time Sakura ends up crying on the couch, sniffling into tissues as Sasuke awkwardly sits on the opposite side, allowing her to lean into him and dampen his hoodie with her tears as he tries to figure out how to properly console her. Not that Sasuke minds being her shoulder to cry on, of course, but it absolutely kills him to see her crying at all.

Sakura shouldn't _ever_ be crying.

"You forgot." Sasuke accuses simply, eyes foreward. "Again."

"Shut up, dickhead." Naruto's hackles raise, naturally on the defense. "I got busy with practice."

Sasuke scoffs. _As if football is more important than your girlfriend._

"Naruto?" Sakura calls from the bathroom. "I'm in here."

The minute she opens the bathroom door, Naruto's arms are around her. He gives her a big squeeze before pressing a sloppy kiss to her mouth.

In the living room, despite knowing better, Sasuke can't help but secretly turn down the TV to overhear their conversation. Only because he has a feeling he knows exactly what's about to happen—after putting up with their drama for six months, he knows all the telltale signs of a brewing storm. He debates whether or not he should escape to the safety of his room.

"I thought you were going to be here an hour ago." Sakura says quietly after Naruto finishes his wanton assault on her mouth.

"I know, I know," Naruto pleads, "Coach held us over for practice."

_Lie. _

Kiba, who is also on the team, texted him over 45 minutes ago asking him to get drinks.

Sasuke's fist clenches around the remote.

"Oh, I'm sorry—I didn't know." She sounds guilty suddenly, and it only adds to the anger swelling inside the Uchiha. As if it's _her_ fault. "Well, you're here now right?" She laughs forcibly. "We're still on for tonight . . . right?"

There's a silence that speaks volumes.

And then, with a tone of voice that Sasuke can tell without looking that he's scratching the back of his blond head: "Well . . . It's Friday night and I kind of already told Sai and Kiba I would go check out this new ramen and bar fusion place."

Despite expecting exactly this, Sasuke's heart still drops.

There's a tense silence on Sakura's end in which Naruto takes the opportunity to continue. "Babe, listen—listen, we've been talking about this place for months. I promise I can make it up to you this weekend or something—wherever you wanna go, I'll take you. I promise, I pinky swear."

Another silence.

Sasuke cringes in anticipation, wondering whether his once peaceful night will be filled with yelling, cursing, crying, or—

"Okay." A small, defeated sound.

"Yes!" Naruto cheers and Sasuke closes his eyes, feeling suddenly sick. "You're the best, babe! I love you so much!" There's the sound of smacking lips and then Naruto is galloping into the living room, hopping right in front of the TV and blocking the Uchiha's view. "Hey bastard, wanna come with? Sai said the ratings are supposed to be through the roof, I mean it's ramen _and_ alcohol! You can't get much better than th—"

"Move the fuck out of the way." Sasuke snaps, unable to tame his tongue, craning his neck around the idiot's pelvis to try and make a show out of his blocked view. "I'm not going anywhere."

"What the fuck is _your_ problem?" Naruto snarls, cerulean eyes bright with anger.

"You."

"What did _I_ do to _you_?" The blond crosses his arms, pissed.

_Stole her away from me._

Sasuke stands up with the guise of losing interest in trying to watch TV, but his obsidian eyes immediately drift to the closed bathroom door on the other side of the apartment where he knows Sakura is crying.

"Just go." Sasuke insists darkly, making his way into the open kitchen to rummage through the cupboards just for something to do with himself until Naruto leaves.

But Naruto is quick on his heels, trailing after him. "Seriously, what the fuck is your problem?"

"I'm tired."

"Then why didn't you just say that?!" Naruto groans. "That's no excuse to be a dickhead."

Sasuke remains silent, still pretending to rifle through the cupboards.

Naruto huffs with a disappointed shake of his head. "Whatever, man."

When Naruto disappears down the hall to change out of his football jersey and into party clothes, Sasuke quickly closes the cupboards and makes his way across the kitchen, leaning over to peek down the hall to make sure the idiot is actually in his room before he makes a beeline to the bathroom door.

A single knuckle taps on the wooden slab softly.

"I said it's fine, Naruto. Just go." Sakura's muffled meek voice comes from the other side.

"It's me, Sakura." Sasuke murmurs, eyes warily flicking to the hallway threshold just in case Naruto comes back. Not that it's any secret that Sasuke comforts her, it's more of the matter that he doesn't particularly care for Naruto to know just how often and how closely he does so.

There's a sniffle from the other side just before the door swings open.

The second he sees the flush of her cheeks and the gloss of her red-rimmed eyes, tears clinging to the smudged black of her eyelashes, Sasuke grabs her chin and tilts her face upwards, gently thumbing away the stray tear sliding down her cheek.

"Sasuke?" Her eyes widen in surprise.

"I'm sorry," He whispers softly, feeling helpless. He's never really sure what to say, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try.

She and Naruto have been in countless "fights" throughout the years, of course, but ever since they moved in together it seems they've just been getting worse and worse.

As of late, she's been merely submitting to Naruto's blatant carelessness. Instead of speaking out and fighting for what she feels, as if she's given up and the once roaring fire inside of her has been reduced to ashes, she shrinks away.

And if there's one thing Sasuke can't stand to see, it's her tears.

Sakura blinks up at him, another tear rolling down her cheek. Then, she smiles, twisting the rapidly beating heart inside his chest. "It's fine, if he's that excited about that place then it's not a big deal—"

She's trying to belittle her own feelings, green eyes dropping to the floor as if _she's_ guilty.

Sasuke will have none of that.

"No." He says sternly, gripping her chin more firmly and forcing her to meet his eyes. "This is the third time this week. You guys were supposed to celebrate your anniversary a month ago."

At the reminder, fresh tears tremble along her eyes and Sasuke inwardly curses. He pulls her to his chest when her face winces with grief, winding his strong arms around her slender waist. Feeling utterly stupid for making her cry again, he buries his face in her hair, wanting nothing more than for the silent shakes of her body to stop and the wetness gathering along the front of his hoodie to cease.

At the sound of a distant door opening, Sasuke leaps away from her and hastily makes his way back to the couch just as Naruto enters the room.

"Well, I'm off." Naruto announces as he strides by, grabbing his keys off the table and disappearing into the entry way. Then, he calls: "I'll send you the address if you change your mind!"

With that, Naruto is gone.

Sasuke is back at the bathroom threshold before the front door closes with a heavy slam.

Sakura sits on the rim of the bathtub basin, eyes glossy and downcast.

"This . . ." She begins quietly before she lets out a self-deprecating laugh, "kind of sucks."

Unsure of what to say and a little awkward, as per usual, Sasuke stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes his way across the bathroom tile before he sits down next to her.

She clasps her hands between her knees, make-up smudged and hair straightened to perfection.

Sasuke knows just how much effort she puts into dolling herself up for her blockhead of a boyfriend, so he says quietly, as if it's any consolation, "Your . . . hair looks nice."

Sakura looks over at him with a small smile that makes him want to pull her into his arms again. "Thanks."

Without thinking, he blurts: "I'll take you somewhere," and then he quickly adds, after realizing how forward he may have sounded, "If you want."

Surprise lights her glum features, sitting up a little straighter. "Like where?"

He shoots his shot. "Anywhere."

\- x -

Coincidentally, Sakura chooses a place she and Sasuke used to go on the regular, before they were even legal to drink.

It's a small cozy bar that sits on the East end of town where they used to meet up after class freshman year of college, when they had been eager to find a bar that had both waffle fries _and_ fried tomatoes.

The atmosphere is lively, but not rowdy, and the twinkling neon lights inside the dim-lit room brings out the emerald hue of her eyes. At the far back of the establishment, a small DJ booth plays alternative music on a cramped stage.

Across the booth, Sakura flattens out her menu like she always does when she can't see the writing under such poor lighting, eyes squinting and teeth digging into her lower lip.

And as expected, she gives up and slides the menu across the table, pointing a slender finger at a particular item.

"What does that say?"

A teasing smirk lifts his lips. "Fried tomatoes."

"Oh, oops." She slides the menu back to look over it once more, laughing. "That's your snack. I want waffle fries."

"I know." He says, admiring the simple green spaghetti-strapped dress she's wearing. The curve of her exposed shoulders and soft collar bones catches his eye more than he cares to admit.

When Sakura decides on her order, she closes the menu. Then, she plops her elbow on the table and rests her chin in her hand, absently staring across the room with a wistful look in her eye. Looking over his shoulder, he follows her gaze to a couple in another booth who hold hands on the table top, all bright smiles and flirty cheeks.

Sasuke mentally strangles Naruto.

His eyes return to her face.

_You deserve so much better. _

"Hey." He tries to pull her attention away from the fact that her boyfriend of six years has all but tossed aside their anniversary in favor of _ramen _and_ booze_. Feeling bold, he reaches across the table and pulls her wrist from her chin, holding it on the tabletop. "Don't think about it." Green eyes drop with shame. Sasuke leans forward, giving her wrist a reassuring squeeze. "Don't."

A heavy sigh escapes her and she looks up at him, eyes filled with unshed tears that has his stomach clenching.

"I think I need a drink." She mumbles.

"I can do that." Sasuke promises, releasing her wrist to flag down a waitress.

"Long Island." He orders for Sakura when a waitress stops by; her favorite drink. He glances over at her before also deciding, "and waffle fries—lightly salted." And then lastly, "Also a rum and coke. One check."

"Sure thing." The waitress says with a smile before disappearing.

"Uh—thanks Sasuke," Sakura blushes, face darkening beneath the rainbow depth of neon lights.

He reaches out to grab her wrist once more, lightly brushing his thumb along sensitive skin there. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, thank you." She says kindly, smiling a little bashfully at his sudden open display of affection. "What's gotten in to you tonight?" Her eyes flick down to the warm hand on her wrist in indication.

Sasuke instantly pulls his hand back, warmth creeping into his cheeks. He feels like hitting himself for being obvious. Maybe he was getting a little _too_ bold. "What do you mean?"

She shifts in her seat. "Well, I mean . . . You don't usually take me out like this—" She hastily corrects herself, "—you haven't in a while, I mean. And you don't usually do . . . _that_, either." Her eyes dart to his hand in indication before she hesitantly asks, "Is everything, um. . . alright?"

"Yes." Sasuke averts his gaze, lightly clearing his throat. "I just felt like you . . . needed it, after tonight." He directly avoids the other subject of her observation.

"You mean, like a distraction?"

Something in his chest shrivels at that comparison, but he smiles slightly for her sake. If that's what she wants, then—"Sure."

To his surprise, she laughs, perfect white teeth exposed and face absolutely glowing with delight. "You did this to distract me from being upset?"

Sasuke shrugs awkwardly, unsure what to say. Because it wasn't _just_ to cheer her up—he also wanted to spend real time with her, considering they haven't been able to hang out as often since school started and she and Naruto's back and forth drama has chased him into hiding in his room most of the time.

_Especially_ when they fight. It's mostly uncomfortable for him, but even in the solace of his room, he can't help but overhear their angry shouts.

Their arguments have been steadily increasing in frequency, much to his dismay, and Sasuke wonders if they're just going through a rough patch. After all, he's never seen them argue this much in all the years he's known them. And even though Naruto has always been somewhat of a douche when he wants to be, lately Sasuke has been itching to put him in his place.

Because if he finds Sakura crying in the bathroom one more time this month, he's going to lose it.

Sakura laughs and it's music to his ears. "Sasuke," She shakes her head with a grin, "You know, this is probably terrible for me to say, and it's a bit embarrassing, but . . . sometimes I wish . . . instead of Nar—"

Sasuke's eyes widen beneath tousled bangs, but two drinks are placed in front of them before she can complete her sentence, saving her from admitting something that she may have come to regret.

Except, now he can't stop thinking about her unfinished sentence. _She wishes _**_what_**_ instead of Naruto?_

"Thank you." Sakura smiles up at the waitress before sliding the tall glass to her lips, poking out her tongue to twist expertly around the straw before sucking it into her mouth.

Distracted by the strangely erotic sight, Sasuke forgets what he was just worried about. The stout glass of rum and coke sits untouched before him as he simply watches her suck down half the drink in one sip.

"Is it . . . good?" He asks curiously, eyes never straying from her puckered pink lips.

She hums in approval, eyes crinkled with a smile.

Sasuke's gaze flicks back up to meet hers and he nods with a small smile of his own, relieved. It's only then that he decides to take a deep swig of his own alcohol.

"You wanna try it?"

Setting his glass back on the tabletop, he folds his hands and raises his dark brows in amusement. "You want me to try your Long Island?"

She nods, gracefully sliding the drink across the table top. It clinks against his own glass.

"You know I don't like super sweet things." He tries to reason, a bit confused, considering she's known this fact since they were eight.

Her green eyes sparkle with an encouraging smile. Sasuke melts at the sight. "Just try."

"Fine." He acquiesces, as if he was really putting up a fight at all. He takes a hesitant sip.

Sakura bursts out laughing at the immediate disgust on his face. He hastily takes a swig of his own drink to wash out the taste, but despite the sickeningly sweet flavor coating his mouth, the inside of his body tingles at the sound of her joy, and the warmth in his chest has nothing to do with the alcohol.

"Your sour face is priceless," she giggles, "I just wanted to see it."

It's in this moment, with a playful smirk on his lips and the bright smile lightening her whole face, that Sasuke realizes just how much he has missed her.

It's only been a measly month since they've been able to properly hang out with each other. And while a month might seem like a short amount of time to some, when she isn't stuck to Naruto, Sasuke is used to having her by his side at all times; all teasing smiles and silly inside jokes.

Right along with the idiot, she's been at his side for sixteen years and counting; a month of her absence feels like an eternity.

He misses her.

And so he tells her exactly that.

"I miss you." He blurts without considering how those three words might sound out of context.

She stops laughing, confusion flashing across her pretty features. "What?"

Stiffening, panic flares within him and he recovers by taking a swift gulp of his drink. The burn of rum down his throat doesn't fix much. He throws head his back even further to finish off the alcohol before setting it back down.

When he realizes he doesn't know how to continue, he shifts uncomfortably.

"What do you mean you miss me?" Sakura asks carefully, frowning. "I haven't gone anywhere, Sasuke."

She doesn't understand.

Sasuke closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's—I shouldn't have said—"

A basket of steaming waffle fries is set neatly in front of Sakura, stealing her full attention and saving Sasuke from having to choke on an explanation. She claps her hands together in delight, stars sparkling in her eyes.

Sasuke's eyes soften, chin resting nonchalantly in his hand as he watches her pop potato after potato in her mouth.

A quick hand reaches over and steals one.

"Sasuke!" She laughs, trying to grab it before he can put it into his mouth but he artfully avoids her grabbing hands—and he eats it.

"Another one?" The waitress offers when she returns, indicating to their empty drinks.

She and Sasuke exchange a look before Sakura answers with a smile, never breaking eye contact with the man across from her. "Yes, please."

* * *

**A/N:** Please don't forget to review and let me know what you think :D ~ Sloshi


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** For this chapter, there are 2 songs that play in the story, links will be posted on my profile if needed. I highly recommend you give these a listen, as these are what I listened to during the write and they're _ahh_-mazing:

1\. Let My Love Open the Door by Pete Townshend (the first song that comes on in the bar/dance scene)

2\. She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5 (the second)

_**My Bestfriend's Girlfriend**_

chapter three

x

Five drinks later, she and Sasuke are comfortably smitten.

Teetering a bit in their seats, somehow, they end up swapping funny stories from way back when, reminiscing the time when things were easy.

And then, naturally, they travel back further in time, before she and Naruto were ever together.

"Remember when you had to hide me under your bed that one time?" Sakura giggles drunkenly, "When we thought Itachi wasn't going to be coming home?"

Sasuke nods, taking another sip of his drink around a drunken smirk as he recalls that exact memory. They had been thirteen at the time, if he recalls, and Sakura had insisted she come over and study together at his house for a huge exam they had the next day, and since his big brother wasn't going to be home that night, they assumed it would be safe for her to spend the night.

But little did they know at the time, Itachi had been released early from his patrol. So when they heard his heavy footsteps entering the house, they both jumped out of his bed in a panic, looking around wildly for a place for her to hide, papers and books falling to the floor in a flurry.

_'Under the bed!' _He had ushered her, _'Hurry, Sakura!'_

_'But it's so cramped!' _Sakura had whined, even as she dropped to the floor and awkwardly slid beneath the low bed frame. Sasuke ran around picking up their mess, neatly piling it on his bed to make it look like his own study pile. And just as Sakura slipped her last toe beneath the bed and Sasuke hopped onto the mattress, the door flew open.

Just in time for it to look like Sasuke had been innocently studying like the straight A student he was.

_'Goodnight, Sasuke.'_

_'Night.'_

The moment the door snicked shut, Sakura broke into fits of giggles and Sasuke fell back onto his bed with his own relieved chuckle.

"How about the time you thought I liked girls?" Sakura hides her full-bellied laughter behind her hand, blushing wildly at the memory.

Sasuke rolls his eyes despite his own cheeks heating. He takes another sip of his drink before nodding, confirming that he does _indeed_ remember that time in particular.

At fifteen years old, Sasuke rounded the corner of the school building just in time to see Sakura and a girl with an obnoxiously long ponytail _kissing_, of all things. He had stopped in his tracks, absently thumbing the strap of his backpack on his shoulder as he took a careful step backward, unsure if he was actually seeing what he was seeing.

With lips still locked, hands on each other's waist, heavy eyelids cracked open to reveal concentrated green eyes—only to fly open at the sight of Sasuke standing there behind Ino, eyes wide and speechless. Sakura ripped her mouth away from the girl, words stuck on her tongue.

_'Sorry.' _Sasuke blurted before spinning on his heel, quickly retreating the way he came.

But Sakura quickly caught up, rounding to the front of him with palms out to stop him in his tracks. _'Wait! Let me explain, Sasuke—!'_

Flustered, Sasuke simply stood there, thumbing the straps of his backpack and gaze averted. _'It's okay, you—It's nothing to be ashamed of.' _

_'Huh?'_

_'Your—sexuality, I mean.'_ He spluttered, shriveling with embarrassment at the very topic.

But Sakura had suddenly laughed, confusing the poor Uchiha even further.

_'Sasuke,'_ She continued to giggle before she stepped forward to wrap her arms around him, pulling him into a warm hug. Still confused as ever, he simply let her, awkwardly patting her back. _'You're so sweet, but . . . I'm not into girls. We were just practicing.'_

_'Oh.' _Was all he could manage, cheeks burning.

"That was really cute." Sakura admits, brushing a loose pink lock behind her ear, cheeks darkening. "That you were so accepting, I mean." She adds, looking away shyly.

_Cute. _

Feeling strangely timid, even with liquid courage coursing through his veins, he sheepishly scratches the back of his spiky locks and averts his gaze.

Sakura leans forward, her fifth Long Island trapped between both palms. "Speaking of _kissing_," She begins with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows. Feeling brave, she asks: "You do remember our first kiss, don't you?"

Of course he does, he thinks. He could never, in all his lifetime, ever forget.

At eight years old, Sasuke and Sakura sat cross-legged on Naruto's living room floor, rifling through his Uncle's comics, not realizing until they had flipped open the covers, just what exactly those books were.

With Naruto in the bathroom and his parents in the kitchen, they sat alone, unsupervised.

_'Ew, what are they doing?' _Sakura whispered with a wrinkle of her nose as she turned the comic this way and that.

Curious, Sasuke leaned over to see, lowering the comic in his own hands. They both blinked, heads cocked.

_'Are they kissing?'_ Sakura asked.

_'I think.'_

She turned to look at him then, dropping the comic to her lap. _'Have you ever kissed anyone?'_

_'No.' _He confessed, flustered by such a weird question.

Sakura sighed. _'Me neither, but I see Mommy and Daddy do it all the time. Do you think it feels good?'_

_'How am I supposed to know?'_ Eight year old Sasuke scoffed.

_'Do you think we should try?'_ Intrigue lit her large green eyes.

Sasuke looked at her for moment, then to the comic, and then back at her.

He shrugged.

A triumphant smirk spread across her face before she twisted her body to face him. He then mirrored her.

_'Okay, let's do it on three.'_

Sasuke nodded.

_'One . . . Two . . . Three!'_

On three, they squeezed their eyes shut and shot forward to press their lips together.

They drew back just as Naruto pranced back into the living room, twisting his pants up around his waist. _'Sorry, I really had to go!' _He exclaimed before noticing the deep crimson of his friend's faces, pointedly looking away from one another. _'Hey, are you guys sick or something?'_

"Naruto had no idea." Sakura snickers, gulping the rest of her drink through her straw.

He never had any idea, Sasuke thinks, about _any_ of the precious moments he and Sakura shared throughout their childhood. Looking back, it seems as if Naruto had always been absent during their best memories.

Even now, he realizes, Naruto has no idea that the two of them are getting drunk together, having an absolute blast—technically behind his back.

Sasuke wonders if this is coincidence.

He should feel guilty, he knows.

But watching her laugh across the table, watching the absolute cheer dance across her face as she fans the mirthful tears in her eyes—he thinks it's the happiest he's seen her in months.

And suddenly he doesn't feel guilty at all.

When Sakura realizes he's been intently staring at her for the past minute, she blushes for the nth time that night, pushes a pink strand behind her ear, and with eyes anywhere but his, she asks coyly: "What?"

He knows her foot is tapping beneath the table.

"It's nice," Sasuke says, alcohol loosening his tongue and words a little slurred, "to see you so happy."

"You make me happy." She replies without missing a beat.

There's a silence in which those words hang above them, the meaning behind them weighing heavy on both of their hearts.

The simple truth hits them both in the face.

Clearing her throat, Sakura quickly tries to change the subject—back to reminiscing.

"Do you remember when Naruto and Hinata were dared to kiss?"

Through his buzzed haze, Sasuke stiffens.

Not because of the subject of his best friend and that mouse of a girl swapping an innocent kiss long ago—but rather, where and when it happened.

At her twelfth birthday party.

Sasuke hooks a finger around the collar of his hoodie, adjusting to the sudden uncomfortable heat.

"Yeah." He clips, wishing he had another drink, if only for something to hide his panic.

High on her own warm buzz, Sakura continues, absently stirring her straw around the melting ice in her empty glass, oblivious to his miserable state. "I guess looking back, it was kind of weird."

"Yeah." He repeats helplessly, desperate for a change of subject.

"I used to think they had a thing for each other." She admits conversationally, green eyes focused on the languid swirl of her straw. "Even as we grew older, I used to suspect something between them. Maybe I was paranoid. I think I was a little jealous for a while, you know?" Sakura stops herself when a thought strikes her, "Well, I guess you wouldn't really know. I don't think I've ever seen you with someone—romantically, anyway. So I suppose you probably wouldn't understand being jealous." She sighs wearily, "It's a terrible feeling."

Sasuke closes his eyes at the bitter irony, chest twisting.

"Yeah." He says once more, inwardly choking as a plethora of images of she and Naruto swapping salvia flicker through his mind—for six unforgiving years

A sad smile lifts her lips, eyes distant and downcast. She rests her chin in her hand, straw still stirring. "Anyway, that night was pretty crazy."

Sasuke swallows thickly.

"Do you remember . . ." She begins carefully, and Sasuke already knows by the miserable expression on her face and that perpetual sadness in her eyes, that it's _that_ particular memory she is reliving right in front of him. The very memory he sees in his nightmares, and the same memory that haunts him every time he closes his eyes. The hesitance, the sudden edge to her voice and the tenseness of her shoulders—the body language of someone who is vividly recalling the exact moment their heart shattered. The dread in his stomach is enough to make him feel sick. "When we played that game?"

Heart racing, Sasuke tries to breathe. Not even the alcohol is able to dampen the alarm rising through his body. And it's not only the subject itself that makes his fingers tremble and sweat gather in his palms, but rather—

They've never, in all their life, spoke about it.

It was never brought up, never addressed; the ghost of a devastating memory heavy on their shoulders but never acknowledged. Pushed back to the dark recesses of their mind, the perpetual elephant in the room.

"I—yeah." He murmurs, eyes averted, shame rippling over him in rip-tides.

"You know," she continues, eyes downcast, "I'm actually really happy you were so honest with me that night—in the closet, I mean." Of course, he thinks. There was only one place he broke her heart. "I was a little dramatic." Here, she laughs dryly, a laugh that makes Sasuke want to cover his ears and shrink away from the sorrow lacing the sound. But then she looks up at him with a smile. "But, if it wasn't for that, me and Naruto probably would have never gotten together. So, thank you."

Sasuke's world stops.

Wide eyed, her words ring fierce and damning in his head, over and over.

_'But, if it wasn't for that, me and Naruto probably would have never gotten together.'_

_'. . ._**_ If it wasn't for that _**_. . .'_

Not: 'if it wasn't for _you_.'

If it wasn't for **_that_**.

Translation: If he hadn't broken her heart into a million pieces that very night, Sakura might have been six years deep into a relationship right now—not with Naruto, but with him.

Hell, they probably would have been _married _right now. Because unlike Naruto, Sasuke wouldn't have wasted a moment to make her his forever. They could have had kids, _right now_. They could have had a house, _right now_.

She could have been his, _right now_.

A nonexistent future flashes through his eyes like a movie reel—the _what could have been_.

At this harrowing realization and the gaping hole forming in his chest, throat tightening, Sasuke has trouble forming words. His mind blanks and short circuits. Regret digs its razor sharp claws into his heart once more, only this time, he isn't prepared for the intensity of the feeling.

_We could have—_

"Sakura," he rasps suddenly, throat clenching. "I—"

_I'm sorry I ruined everything._

Their waitress abruptly sets down two new drinks in front of them—a Rum and Coke in front of a broken hearted man and a Long Island in front of a wilting woman.

Sakura is quick to pull her drink towards her, sucking down half of it immediately.

"Fuck, Sakura." Words a bit slurred, an elbow comes down hard on the table and he claws a stressed hand through his dark disheveled locks, feeling worse than he ever has in six years. "I didn't realize—"

_I fucked up so badly. _

So much worse than he even knew_. _

"Sasuke!" Sakura gasps, taken aback by his blatant distress. She reaches over to rub his broad shoulder, smiling reassuringly. "We were only twelve! It was so long ago, okay? It doesn't matter now, I shouldn't have brought that up, I'm sorry, I don't—I don't know why I did that—" She massages her forehead, feeling utterly stupid and honestly a bit dizzy. "I'm pretty drunk, I think."

"Do you need water?" He asks, concern overpowering his guilt.

She clamps her lips over her straw, shaking her head to decline as she sucks down the rest of her drink.

He orders her water anyway and, much to his relief, the subject is quickly dropped.

Twenty minutes later, after another three drinks and light back and forth chit-chat, Sasuke and Sakura are properly drunk.

The DJ booth plays louder as the nightlife awakens, music rising in pace as more and more college students pour into the establishment.

"I want to dance!" Sakura shouts over the music, leaning forward over the table and nearly knocking her drink over when she grabs at his wrist.

Sasuke flips his palm over and slides his fingers down her wrist until his fingers bravely curl around hers.

"I bet you do." He half-shouts back as he also leans in, smirking.

"Can we?!"

The excitement on her face is everything.

With rum coursing freely through his veins, full of bursting energy, Sasuke nods without hesitation.

Releasing her hand and scooting out of the booth, he nearly topples over when he stands, alcohol hitting him harder than he expects. His palm slaps the tabletop to steady himself.

When Sakura stands, she's far worse off than him and she's immediately falling forward. Sasuke darts forward to catch her, slinking a hand around her waist before she can fall flat on her face. Her lack of balance makes him wobble on his own feet, but with his arm firmly around her small waist, he pulls her back to his chest and carefully steadies her.

"You sure you're okay?" He leans down to breathe in her ear, making sure she can hear him over the rowdy din of the bar.

The feel of her warm body pressed so intimately against his makes butterflies flap against the walls of his stomach.

For a fleeting moment, it feels as if she is _his_ girlfriend.

She giggles drunkenly, both hands coming up to curl around the strong forearm that's still wound around her midsection. "I want to dance!" She exclaims, blatantly avoiding his question. Throwing her head back against his chest, she looks up at him with big round puppy eyes.

Drunk himself and unable to resist her endearing charm, Sasuke shrugs.

Letting his arm slide away from her midsection but keeping it protectively at her side, he weaves them through the tables and bustling waitresses to the dance floor in the back, where several other patrons are waving their beers in the air, swinging their hips and shouting horribly off key in time with the music.

Finding an open space on the dance floor, Sasuke reluctantly lets his hand fall from her waist and lets her do her thing.

Immediately, Sakura is jumping around to the fast beat, drunken smile on her lips. She swings her pink hair side to side, hands raised in the air like there's nothing and nobody in the world. And then she's stumbling toward him, both hands on his shoulders.

"Dance with me!" She huffs wildly, eyes bright.

"You know I don't—" Even under the heavy influence, he knows very well his ability to dance—or rather lack thereof. His words run together, "I don't do _that_."

"Please!" She begs, still adorably hopping to the beat before him.

Blinking heavy-lidded down at the desperation on her pretty face, his eyes bore into hers, and then they drop to the dramatic jut of her bottom lip.

_Fuck it._

And then he's joining her, dancing (more like swaying) blindly, not really knowing what the hell he's doing but not really caring as long as Sakura is having the time of her life.

And that she is—Sakura grabs both of his hands, intertwines their fingers and holds them up between them, bouncing and swaying along with the music, free as he's ever seen her.

The small smirk on his face is inevitable as she sings the lyrics horribly, squeezing their intertwined fingers over and over again, lifting their linked hands to the ceiling and then outward as if she's _making_ him dance.

The unfamiliar song ends quite abruptly, just in time for the intro of a new song. A whimsical keyboard flows through the speakers.

Sakura gasps when she recognizes it immediately, "I LOVE this song!"

As if he doesn't already know that.

His smirk widens.

It's the same song they danced to on prom night, long after Naruto had left prematurely to hit up someone's after party.

At eighteen years old, She had stood there awkwardly off to the side of the punch bowl, wringing her hands together in her lap, bouncy pink curls framing the disappointment on her face and winged eyeliner shaping her downcast eyes.

Sasuke wasted no time in appearing at her side, swooping in the moment he saw his chance.

_'Where's Naruto?'_ He had asked, already knowing the blond had long since bailed.

_'A party.' _She explained quietly.

Sasuke had leaned back against the buffet table, hands deep in the pockets of his dress pants. He drank in her appearance from the corner of his eye; the sparkling red dress cinched at her waist and flowed outwards around her hips like a dipped rose. The pink little ringlets around her sweet-heart shaped face was the most adorable thing he had ever seen, but the dusted blush on her cheeks and the pop of her red lipstick made her look so stunningly gorgeous that it hurt.

_'He's a fucking idiot.' _He couldn't help but observe, scowling.

Sakura nodded, softly agreeing as she twiddled her fingers in her lap. _'Yeah . . .' _

On the high school dance floor, his obsidian eyes watched the dancing crowd swing their hips, celebrating the last dance of the year.

Then he glanced over, studying the dejection on her face—the slight quiver of her chin.

Making up his mind, heart pounding, he bravely offered her his hand.

Her head snapped up to look at him, glossy eyes wide with surprise.

_'You want to dance, don't you?_' He offered, just barely keeping himself from stuttering.

_'Yes, but—Sasuke . . . I thought you didn't dance—'_ She tried to reason, but he reached out to take her hand anyway.

_'Tonight I do.' _He promised.

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree.

He led her out to the dance floor, guided her hands to his shoulders and wrapped his hands around her waist. And when the song that's playing now had played then, he twirled her around the dance floor, savoring her bright smile and the flare of her red prom dress as it billowed around her ankles with every spin—sparkling like a million glittering stars each time she caught the light.

And the rest was history.

Sakura releases his hands to swing herself side to side, head thrown back with a cheer of pure joy at the song choice.

"Let my love open the door!" She sings drunkenly, hands in the air.

He watches the lights dance across the happiness on her face, falling even more in love with her, if that were even possible.

Tonight, he decides suddenly, Naruto doesn't exist.

Snatching her hand, he pulls her to his chest before he brings their linked hands above her head, twirling her around several times just as he did prom night. Sasuke's eyes soften with nostalgia, lips quirking as she begins to get dizzy. When he stops her in place, she loses her balance and he reaches out to catch her once more.

"You're so drunk." He whispers in her ear, nose brushing against her soft pink locks.

"So are you!" She shouts back when she's as steady as someone can be after countless Long Islands.

His eyebrows raise in amusement, even as his vision actively blurs. He's far more drunk than he should have allowed himself, but there's just something about her presence that makes reason fly right out the window. He leaves all logic and responsibility behind, living only in this moment where her elation alone intoxicates him.

When the song finally comes to an end, Sakura pants.

"Tired already?" He teases, reaching out to brush the wildly loose hair from her glazed eyes. Sakura catches his hand and holds it to her cheek, smiling up at him.

His heart throbs at the innocently sweet action.

"Thank you so much for bringing me out here tonight, Sasuke." She confesses suddenly, eyes radiant with genuine appreciation.

Sasuke brings his free hand to her other cheek, cradling her face. He delicately caresses her ivory skin with his thumbs, eyes soft. "Aa."

Just then, another song rises through the speakers. But it isn't fast paced nor is it a song they both know.

It's slow, almost melancholy. Completely unfitting for a bar full of drunk college students.

But if the chorus of cheers from everyone around them is any indication, it must be a song everyone else knows.

_(He was always there to help her, she)_

_(Always belonged to someone else)_

"Dance?" Sakura asks, still smiling.

Sasuke nods, dropping his hands from her cheeks to guide her hands to his shoulders. He winds his hands around her waist, pulling her flush against him and huffing with silent laughter when she lets out a dramatic _oof! _as if the bump of their chests actually knocks the wind out of her.

Together they drunkenly sway to the music, eyes locked. And as the lyrics flow through the dancing bodies around them, as the bright neon lights shine down on their faces with a myriad of colors, the world around them blurs into smudges of light and shadows.

_(I don't mind spendin' everyday)_

_(Out on your corner in the pourin' rain)_

The world around them disappears until it's just Sasuke and Sakura in an empty room beneath a rainbow of lights and shifting penumbras.

Through his drunken haze, something screams at him that this is wrong.

That he should not be here, with his best friend's girlfriend, completely wasted and completely in love with her.

Red flags raise, alarm bells ring.

But as they continue to slowly sway, stumbling a few times, all internal warnings, along with the rational voice in his head, is snuffed by the glittering lights in her orbs as she continues to stare up at him, bright eyed and beautiful. And _smiling_.

Smiling like she never does around Naruto—not anymore.

A smile just for him.

_ (Look for the girl with the broken smile)_

Around Naruto, her smiles are short lived, not quite full and never quite reaching her eyes.

He knows she's unhappy.

_(Ask her if she wants to stay awhile)_

She knows she is, too.

His hands tighten around her waist, heart slamming against his ribcage. Her long eyelashes blink slowly as she watches him, watch her.

And without really realizing it, or even noticing in their drunken state, their faces drift closer.

_(And she will be loved, and she will be loved)_

He thinks back to all the times Naruto has failed her over the years; the forgotten birthdays, anniversaries, important dates and plans. All the times he put her on the back burner, took advantage of her, treated her like she were a replaceable bauble and not the most perfect girl in the entire world who deserves everything and _more_.

He thinks of all the times Naruto claimed to be searching for a wedding ring, only to repeat the same excuse five months later. He thinks of every time he left Sakura to cry in the bathroom, in her room, on the couch, in the kitchen. In Sasuke's arms.

_(Tap on my window, knock on my door, I . . .)_

Their faces inch even closer.

_(Want to make you feel beautiful)_

He thinks of all the times Sakura would make Naruto dinner only for him to never show up, leaving her with a measly text that explained he would be out late and that he would just reheat it in the microwave. He thinks of all the times she would dress up, spend hours on her hair and makeup only for Naruto to cancel because he's too _tired_ or the _games on tonight_.

He thinks of all the ways this girl in his arms has been mistreated.

_(My heart is full, and my door's always open)_

Thinks of all the times she has been left in the dark; left wondering if she's pretty enough, if she's good enough, if she _is_ enough.

_(You can come anytime you want, yeah)_

And as his lips hover inches from hers, onyx eyes burning into emerald, as he pulls her even closer, as his hands slide up her sides, her ribs, her arms, over the curve of her shoulders and up the column of her slender throat—he knows that she has _never_ been anything less than enough.

_(I know where you hide alone in your car)_

Hands cupping the back of her head, fingers threaded in her silky hair and thumbs lifting her jaw, he takes a single breath.

_(Know all of the things that make you who you are)_

The curious wonder in her eyes as she lets him cradle her head is not lost on him. He takes another breath.

_'One . . . Two . . . Three!'_

His lips crash against hers.

_(Yeah, tap on my window, knock on my door, I . . . )_

_(Want to make you feel beautiful)_

Hard, hungry, and raw—mouth moving against hers with everything he's never said, everything he's ever held back, all the love he has never been able to give in the span of six long agonizing years—all rolled into this one, sloppy drunken kiss. He kisses her impatiently but passionately, fingers curling into her hair and forcing her even harder against his mouth, tongue slipping between her lips—

Sakura rips her mouth away from him, pushing against his chest with all her might and stumbles recklessly backwards in shock.

It's only until he blinks and snatches her wrist before she can fall onto her ass that he realizes what he's just done.

Naruto's face drifts through his hazed conscious, alarm zipping through his veins.

_I just . . . kissed Sakura. _

_I just kissed my best friend's girlfriend. _

The flash of sobriety and betrayal in her eyes has his heart clenching viciously, and he all at once thinks he might be sick right there in the middle of the dance floor.

But they're both still completely drunk and so all they can do is just stand there and stare at one another as they wobble on their feet.

"Ssasuke . . ." She slurs, eyes wide and frightened as she brings a finger to her lips. "Why—?"

"I . . . " He hesitates.

"_Why?_" She repeats more firmly.

_Because I love you so much I can't even stand it._

"Sakura, I'm sorry—" He stumbles backwards a little, trying to find balance even as the world spins around him. "I shouldn't have—I overstepped—"

He barely has time to gasp when she suddenly leaps into his arms, ankles locked around his waist and lips on his, fingers yanking on his long dark locks. Her warm lips smash against his, drunk and clumsy but _eager_. Nearly falling backwards with the force of her jump, Sasuke's hands fly up to cup her bottom, staggering to stay balanced.

Her lips sloping against his is the only thing his drunk mind can properly register. The moment he collects himself, he's kissing her back feverishly, all lips and tongue and teeth. His hands tighten around the circumference of her bottom, squeezing and kneading as he continues the assault on her mouth.

She tastes like alcoholic tea—and everything he's ever wanted.

\- x -

They stumble out of the cab at 3AM holding hands.

Climbing up the steps to their apartment, they're barely able to keep their hands to themselves as they ascend, stopping every three seconds to clumsily kiss and grope, attempting to make up for six years worth of suppressed longing.

It takes them an entire five minutes to actually enter the apartment, even after they reach the landing.

The second Sasuke throws open the front door, Sakura is yanked in and thrown up against the wall, wrists pinned on either side of her head by his iron grip and his tongue down her throat. She whimpers with pleasure between his aggressive lips and gasps when Sasuke hooks his hands under her thighs, hiking her up against the wall. Her ankles cross at the base of his spine.

Wet tongue still exploring the cavern of her mouth, he rolls his hips against the sweet spot between her legs, letting her feel just how ready for her he is.

How ready he has always been.

The hard outline of his cock presses firm against the damp spot on her flimsy underwear and this time Sakura moans into his mouth.

"_Fuck_—" She breathes between a kiss just before his lips silence her once more, the wetness between her thighs pooling at the feel of his thick length rubbing against her _there_. "Sasuke—"

"_You have no idea_," he rasps against her parted lips, cutting her off and drawing back to take a good look at the pleasure on her expression in the dim-lit entryway. "_How long I've wanted this._"

Sakura yanks his mouth back to hers, slipping her tongue between his lips and burying her fingers in his hair. She grinds her hips against the hard bulge on his thigh, earning her a deep approving hum in her mouth at her ministrations.

Sasuke wants nothing more than to fuck her right here against the wall.

But a voice in the back of his mind screams at him to take it to the bedroom just in case something—_someone_—might walk in and catch them in the act.

Because somewhere in the back of his drunken mind, he knows that what he's doing is fucking crazy.

And so he lets Sakura slide back down his body, allowing her aching core the sweet friction it desires as she slides down the front of his hips, gasping when her clit unexpectedly brushes along the textured ridge of his belt.

She drunkenly whines when her wedges touch the ground, but he quickly grabs her face and taps his lips against hers for reassurance.

"Bedroom." He whispers against her panting mouth.

She nods before reaching down to try and take her shoes off—only to fail miserably and stagger forward. Sasuke reaches out to catch her, nearly falling himself.

They both stumble to their knees.

"Help." She begs, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face into the crook of his neck where she trails soft, sloppy kisses along his throat.

He wordlessly sits her back on her bottom, one hand on her lower back to steady her as he gently coaxes her ankles out from under her. She keeps her arms wound around his neck as he pulls both of her shoes off and throws them to the side.

He then leans down to scoop her up, nearly falling forward several times despite how lightweight she is. Somehow, he keeps his balance as he stumbles his way through the dark apartment, holding her as close as possible.

With her face buried in the collar of his hoodie and her arms wrapped securely around his neck, Sasuke is the happiest man in the entire world.

He kicks open his door and staggers forward, making triple sure he doesn't drop the girl in his arms. And when he finally clambers his way over to his bed and playfully lets her flop onto the mattress, he doesn't waste a second in climbing right on top of her, desperate lips dominating hers.

Her legs and arms wrap around him, pulling him so tightly against her body he wonders if she's trying to mold them together.

Sasuke draws back breathlessly for a moment, looking down at the shameless hunger burning like fire in her glazed eyes.

"Fuck me." She whispers, reaching between them to squeeze the full bulge on his thigh.

His eyes widen before he groans, fingers moving between her legs and sliding beneath the hem of her dress. They hook around the edge of her panties and he yanks them down her thighs, tugging them down and down until they slide off of her dainty feet.

Throwing them carelessly aside, he forcibly spreads her legs to reveal the sloppy wetness smeared along her inner thighs and coating the lips of her arousal.

In this moment, there are no thoughts—just lust, hunger, and his overwhelming love for the girl spread eagled before him.

Having zero sexual experience doesn't stop him from reaching forward and gliding his fingers along the wet lips between her thighs. His finger experimentally caresses her opening, circling around it and lightly dipping the tip of his finger inside but never quite pushing all the way in. She quivers with a pleading moan at his unfair teasing and that's all it takes for his inflated drunk ego to guide his next actions.

Adjusting himself above her, he taps his mouth to hers as his fingers continue to play along her lower lips, feeling and testing the way she squirms beneath him with each movement. When his fingers glide along a sweet spot that has her eyes widening with a gasp, he repeats the motion—over and over until her chest is heaving wildly and her face twists with pleasure.

"I've never done this." He confesses as his slickened fingers continue to circle her bundle of nerves, too drunk to care what he's admitting and pumped full of liquid courage. "But I'm glad it's with you."

A hazed smile curves her lips and she reaches up to cup his face, "Mm' glad, too."

Her smile quickly turns into an _O_, however, when he plunges two fingers into her entrance without warning, twisting them against the tightness of her walls before hooking his fingers upward. Feeling the texture of her core around his fingers as he viciously pumps them inside her, he lowers his face and brushes the tip of his nose against hers, savoring every sweet moan that falls from her lips before he's kissing her once more.

He swirls his tongue around hers, the sweet aftertaste of Long Island iced tea mixed with her saliva.

Sakura wriggles beneath him, straining and lifting her hips against his fingers to coax him deeper. She grabs at the nape of his neck, whimpering between his kisses and back arching when he thrusts even harder. An excess of extra liquid trickles into his open palm, warm and so incredibly wet. From the way her body spasms beneath him, he assumes this is a very good thing.

Sasuke stops his assault on her mouth, drawing back just slightly in order to watch her beg and moan. His fingers continue to drive into her like a piston, not pausing for even a second.

Her eyes struggle to stay open, hazing in and out of focus as moan after moan bursts from her lips. When her head begins to fall away from him, his free hand flies up to snatch her chin, forcing her to meet his keen eyes once more. He feels the strange, instinctive need to watch the intense pleasure as it dances across her face, memorizing and burning it into his mind, knowing that _he_ is the one to make her feel this way; her body quakes with ecstasy because _his_ fingers demand it.

He gives a particularly brutal thrust to punctuate his point, dark eyes gleaming when she gasps in delicious surprise.

"Sasuke!"

By now, his own arousal aches so terribly that he's physically unable to bear it any longer. Retracting his slick fingers from her core, he sits up on his knees and reaches down to quickly unbuckle his belt. He slips the belt from his hips and tosses it somewhere in the dark before fumbling with the clasp of his jeans several times. After many embarrassing attempts, he finally shimmies them down his hips along with his boxers.

The moment his throbbing length springs free, he chokes on his spit in surprise when Sakura's slender hands wrap around him.

She sits up, expertly twisting her hands around his cock in a way that has noises he didn't even know he could make falling from his lips. And before he can even register what she's doing, her mouth clamps around the swollen tip.

Sasuke's head falls back, lips parting when she sucks him into her hot mouth, a hand still twisting the base as her tongue twirls endlessly around him.

"_Fuck_," He gasps, dropping his head back down to watch her take his length in and out of her wet mouth. His eyes widen when he sees her staring right back up at him—full of sinful promise. An electrifying jolt of arousal strikes him as her hungry eyes burn into his, cock twitching against her tongue. "Oh, fuck."

She pops the head out of her mouth and slowly draws back, a string of saliva shimmering in the moonlight peaking through his only window.

Still looking up at him, all bright eyed and wicked, she severs the string with a sensual lick of her lips.

"Have you ever let somebody do . . . _this_?" She coos devilishly, blowing a playful puff of air over the newly slick tip.

_No_.

A shiver runs through his whole body and he swallows, inexperienced and unprepared. Heart racing, blood pumping furiously through his veins and chest heaving, the girl beneath him has his mind scrambling in a thousand different directions.

_Holy fuck_, he can't help but think through his haze as he stares down at her; at this naughty seductress of a Sakura he's never before seen in his entire life.

She leans in to lick the new bead of precum gathered at the slit before her tongue expertly laps the sensitive spot beneath the tip. It's all everything Sasuke has not to whimper at the feeling.

Salacious jade eyes never breaking from onyx, she lifts his length and lets her tongue slide along the underside of him, tracing a throbbing vein from the base all the way up to the tip where she sucks him between her lips again.

And then she's taking him deeper, gliding his solid length to the back of her throat where she gags. The walls of her throat clenching around him forces a soft strangled sound from his lips. She pulls out just to take him back in again, swallowing him over and over until every inch of him is slathered with her excess salvia.

Her hands coast around his hips to grab his bare bottom, forcing him forward and deeper into her mouth. And then her fingers trail down to the front of his legs, lightly digging her nails into the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. The small sting of pain intensifies the ecstasy and a throaty moan finally slips from his throat.

"_Fuck . . ._" He breathes, blown away by her enthusiastic skill as she works on him, touching him in all the right places with an overwhelming amount of passion. He reaches down, gently brushing pink bangs out of the coy eyes that peer up at him beneath his cock. She gives his tip another artful lick.

Heavy lids lower over obsidian eyes despite his incredulity, unable to fathom how such an innocently sweet girl like Sakura is so deceitfully . . .

_Naughty_.

It's a surprise not unwelcome in the least. In fact, it only heightens his need for her tenfold.

Sakura's teasing touches make his whole body ripple with pleasure. Her hot mouth feels incredible, _so_ deliciously good; it isn't long before his thighs quiver. His eyes roll into the back of his head with a flutter of his eyelashes when he hits the back of her tight throat; with his entire length buried in her mouth and her lips straining against the V of his hips, the quiver of Sasuke's thighs turn into uncontrollable shakes.

She holds him deep within her throat, hands trailing up and slipping beneath his hoodie to caress his muscled abdomen before slowly dragging them back down to his twitching thighs.

When she unexpectedly pulls back from her mind-blowing deepthroat, an exhale he hadn't realized he'd been holding thrusts from his lungs. But she's swallowing him again before he even has a chance to take a another breath.

"_Mm_ . . ." He hums softly, closing his eyes in an attempt to tame the unrelenting pleasure. She slides him in and out of her throat, gently tugging his sac to pull hips closer.

Lost in a cloud of bliss, Sasuke's heart soars with every suck of her pretty lips, every swallow of her throat around him, every twist of her hand around the base of his cock as she teases the head.

The squelching wet sounds she makes as she works on him, head bobbing perfectly, sends him spiraling dangerously towards the edge of paradise.

Unable to help himself as he nears his peak, he rocks his hips against her mouth, hitting the back of her throat in time with her quickening rhythm. With his fists twisted in her pink locks, he begins to fuck her mouth, every thrust an explosion of euphoria.

And it feels so fucking good.

_Too_ good.

He isn't sure how much more of this torturous foreplay he can take.

"_Sakura—!_" He gasps suddenly, two fists in her messy pink hair tightening and trying to stop her from making him come before he even has the chance to be inside of her. He winces when she sucks him back into her mouth with a hard suction of her cheeks. He shudders, a long moan escaping his throat. "_Wait_ . . . Sa—"

Her name in his mouth dissipates into a hot exhale when she swallows him completely, hands coasting back around to his ass. Sasuke chokes on his plea, fingers tightening in her hair as the punishing pleasure shoots through his veins, dragging him even closer to the edge.

His eyes widen in alarm when he feels the tight knot ready to burst.

"_Wait—!_" he fights to pull himself from the heavenly warmth of her mouth. But her hands cupping his backside keeps him firmly in her mouth as her tongue twirls up his length and around the tip before it dips into his slit. Pinching his eyes shut, he bucks his hips back and rips himself out of her mouth with a curse, just shy of peaking down her throat. "Fuck, Sakura!"

Wrenching her head back by a fistful of her hair, saliva stringing from her lips, he dips down and smashes his mouth against hers, silencing her mewling cry as his other hand grips the creamy column of her throat.

Sasuke smirks, butterflies bursting in his stomach when he feels the curl of her own wicked grin against his lips.

_Very naughty_, indeed.

He then yanks the flimsy dress over her head and pushes her back into the mattress before he rips away her bra, control completely lost. He pulls his hoodie over his head and tugs off his jeans completely, lets it join the growing pile on the side of his bed before his hands are everywhere on her body, obsidian eyes drinking up every inch of her soft naked flesh.

He squeezes her pert round breasts, kneading them as he thumbs over her hard pink nipples before his hands slide down her hips, thighs, and then back up to her breasts, heart racing with the need to touch her anywhere he can get his hands on.

"Please, Sssasuke." She slurs in the dark. "I want you sso bad."

"I want you too, Sakura." He whispers drunkenly, feeling uncharacteristically vocal as he massages her breasts and watches the small _O_ of her mouth like a hawk. "_More than anything._"

_More than you could possibly know. _

Nestling himself between her legs, he grabs the back of her thighs and pushes them backward until her knees align with her shoulders and her bare feet dangle on either side of his head—relishing in her soft whimper at the realization that he's going to penetrate her as deeply as physically possible.

Desperate, impatient, and six years overdue, he reaches between them to position the tip of his wet cock at her sopping entrance, other hand tight around the back of her thigh. He slides the tip up and down her slick folds before he pushes into her with a rasping moan, pushing deeper and deeper until his hips meet hers.

She gasps, wide-eyed at his unexpected fullness, hands flying up to desperately wrap around his neck.

Buried to the hilt inside of her, panting furiously, they make eye contact; both drunk out of their minds and wild with need.

As his face hovers inches above hers, he takes this moment to study every detail—the pleasure swimming in her glazed eyes, the _desperation_. He looks at her bruised parted lips, the dark flush of her cheeks. Messy pink hair fans out around her head, contrasting against the dark navy of his pillows.

She's so beautiful it hurts.

"_Please_." She breathes, cupping his face and lifting her head to press her lips firm against his, allowing to him taste her raw hunger. She gently rotates her hips, watching the blissful surprise flash across his face as she rolls his cock around her tight inner walls. "_Please, Sasuke_."

Nodding with a swallow, he pulls himself out only to glide steadily back into her, wincing with pleasure.

"I—" he pants between the first slow thrusts, suddenly unable to help the regret spilling from his heart, "I'm sorry about that night." Another ripple of pleasure flows through him when his hips roll back into hers. His teeth clench. "I never should have"—a soft hum escapes him as he slides into her particularly deep—_god she feels so fucking good_—"never should have said that to you."

A guttural moan leaves her lips as his thickness stretches her walls to the max with every thrust. She slowly blinks up at him through her daze. "W-What?"

"That night." He slurs through vicious pants, determined to confess, "At your birthday party. In the—In the closet. I said things—"

Too intoxicated to grasp what he's trying to say, her eyes tighten with confusion and she parts her lips as if to speak. But when his thickness fills her again, almost to the point of pain, a keening, slow moan escapes her instead. "You feel sssooo good, Sasuke. Please don't stop."

He pulls out before driving into her hot core once more, jaw tight with the attempt at keeping himself from groaning at the sensation.

"I never should have—" he tries again, repeating himself over and over, not able to properly collect his thoughts in his drunken stupor. "I never should have said—I never—should have—I never—"

Sakura grabs his face, hazy concern flashing in her eyes before she hushes him softly. "_Shhh_, it's okay." And she doesn't quite know what he's talking about. But she _does_ know that she wants him to fuck her harder.

"Harder, Sasuke." She whispers against his lips, voice breaking as it boarders on a whine. "Fuck me harder. Please."

At the wanton plea in her eyes, he reluctantly swallows back his regret.

Sasuke suddenly pulls himself back out of her.

Alarm flashes across her glazed eyes. "Sas—?"

He drives into her with a force that shoves the bed frame into the wall, slamming his cock into her as fast, deep, and as hard as his strength will allow. She screams out, body lurching with every merciless buck of his hips.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Keeping his upper body pressed against hers, with the back of her thighs sandwiched between their chests, he kisses her sloppily—tasting her as he pounds her into the mattress, feeling himself grow harder with every whispered plea she makes between their lips.

Again, that tiny voice in the back of his mind nags at him—that this is so beyond fucked up. So wrong. That when he wakes tomorrow, everything he's ever built between him, Sakura, and Naruto will be broken forever.

The voice screams through his clouded consciousness; that they shouldn't be having sex drunk, nor having sex at all. And not only should they not be having sex, but their first time should not be this animalistic drunken disaster born out of sheer impulse and unhealthy repressed feelings.

They're a total mess driven by one man's quest for love and one woman's capricious desire.

But he only slams his cock into her harder, deeper, _fasterfasterfaster_—grunting at the delicious pleasure rippling over him with every snap of his hips. Forcing her legs back even further and granting him greater access to her exposed flower, he takes the opportunity to pull out completely. Before she can protest the sudden loss, he dips his head down and licks the messy lips between her thighs.

She startles with a gasp at the feeling, lifting her head to watch the way his tongue travels along her core. He sucks her sensitive bud between his lips before swirling his tongue around her at a pace that has her thighs quivering and struggling beneath his grip.

With his fingers locked firmly around the back of her thighs, she wiggles her hips in mock resistance, knowing she couldn't escape him if she tried. The concept of being forcibly restrained by him makes her core pulse. When she openly struggles against his grip, he pins her thighs to her chest harder, fingers digging into her flesh as he laps at her lower lips without mercy.

"Don't stop," She begs, burying her fingers in his hair and snatching at his silky dark locks.

He grunts at her fierce grip as his tongue dances around her, licking up her juices without hesitation. She tastes sweet and salty; a flavor he wouldn't mind tasting every night for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, he stops to look down at her; at the pure _ecstasy_ on her face, the perpetual _O_ of her lips, the euphoria dusted emerald eyes under heavy-lids.

A wicked smirk lifts his lips.

And then he lifts himself up, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, directs his cock back to her aching opening, forces her thighs back to her chest, and with one snap of his hips, plunges back into her again.

Head thrown back, she lets out a shrill cry.

"Sa—suke!" Every scream of his name is punctuated by a brutal thrust. Skin slapping angrily, headboard ramming against the wall, bedsprings squeaking, she continues to cry out. "Yes! Sa—suke! Har—der! Oh—god! Fuck—fuck—fuck!"

He fucks her fast and hard just like she begs him to, letting six years of built up frustration drive the hips that are viciously railing into hers.

He sets an unforgiving, almost punishing pace that has her losing her mind, green eyes rolled back and hands blindly flying out to hold on to anything within reach. The constant wet squelch of where they're intimately joined and the tight walls of her core clenching and unclenching around him has Sasuke himself losing his sanity.

He leans down to press a chaste kiss to her lips before he draws back, a drop of sweat dripping from the tip of his nose onto hers. Energy he didn't even know nor realized he had spurs his hips onward, muscles flexing and straining as his whole body works to fuck his girl senseless.

"Please—please—please!" She begs as she throws her head back, tears forming in the corners of her closed eyes. "Oh, god—Sa—suke! Please! I'm—so—close—!"

In his frazzled state, he can't help but notice that she sounds far better in real life than she ever has in his wildest dreams—her soprano pleas in his ear make his stomach clench with the nearing of his release.

And when the walls of her core undulate around his length, she falls apart beneath him with a piercing cry, fingernails digging deep into his back and clawing down his shoulder blades. The sharp pain of her nails scratching down his slick skin only heightens the pleasure. Her toes curl on either side of his head.

It's only seconds later that he finally loses himself.

His eyes widen before he pinches them shut, a shout tearing through his lips as he hides his face in her neck. He tenses, cock pulsing deep inside of her as something warm and euphoric bursts between his legs. An orgasm rips through his whole body, explosive heat zipping through every spasming muscle.

Stars speckle behind his closed lids, eyes rolling back as he finally releases what he's been desperately holding back for nearly forty-five minutes straight. He whimpers against her neck; deep, broken hums of pleasure vibrating against her skin as he rides out the last of his powerful orgasm, lost in the heavenly clouds of completion.

Sasuke softly groans as he finally pulls out, cock still tingling and twitching with the aftermath. For a moment, still forcing her thighs to her chest, he sits back to watch as _his_ liquid dribbles out of her body and trickles downward.

_She's mine_, he thinks drunkenly, completely irrational. _Not _**_his_**_. She has never fucking been _**_his_**_._

He leans down to press a soft kiss on her clit, massaging the back of her bruising thighs in apology for his harsh grip.

Letting her legs fall back to the mattress on either side of him, he collapses on top of her with a relieved sigh. She wastes no time in wrapping her arms around his sweaty naked body, burying her face in his hair.

"I—" he pants quietly, guilt striking his conscious as fast as lightening, "I didn't mean to be so rough—"

"_S'okay_," She whispers as she runs her fingers through his hair and lightly scratches his scalp. Sasuke inwardly purrs at the feeling, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and trailing lazy wet kisses under her jaw, lapping at the salty sheen of sweat on her skin.

He feels her slender body rise and fall with heavy breathing beneath him, feels her heartbeat thrumming as fervently as his own. The slick sweat and heat between their naked bodies is cathartic.

A blanket of satisfaction lays upon the two wasted best friends, even as the world is still drunkenly spinning around them.

So warm and peaceful, with nothing but the rasp of their pants filling the silence, they hold each other. He listens to her heartbeat, racing in her jugular and slowing with every passing minute.

Eventually, he rolls off of her and pulls her onto his chest, tucking her head beneath his chin and gliding his hands along her sticky bare back. His fingers run up the ridge of her spine before they thread into her messy pink locks, feeling as if he's somehow living in a dream.

Because this is _Sakura_ in his arms.

Correction: a sleepy, spent, and _naked_ Sakura in his arms.

The reality of what they've done doesn't hit them, however, because they're still wasted out of their minds and clouded by the sweet rapture of their coupling, tingling from head to toe.

Tugging the blankets over their bodies, he nuzzles his nose into the crown of her soft pink hair as he massages her scalp, deeply inhaling the light vanilla scent of her shampoo and kissing the top of her head every so often. She moans softly against his bare chest, snuggling even closer and bringing a hand up to caress his sweaty torso—fingers gliding along his skin just like day he fell in love with her.

_I love you_, he wants to whisper to the girl in his arms, but finds he is unable break such a peaceful silence.

They lay like this for what feels like hours, tenderly massaging and caressing each other as if they have been lovers for an eternity and more. It isn't until the amber dusk of sunrise spills into the room and across their naked bodies that they finally fall asleep in one another's arms.

The calm before the storm.

* * *

**A/N**: Please don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you think :D ~Sloshi


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I was honestly going to address the few rude flames I received, but I decided they're not even worth my energy. So anyway, here's a really angsty chapter. I probably should have mentioned that this story was actually loosely inspired by the roy/pam/jim relationship from the office. I hope that this fic is unique in that you really feel Sasuke's love for Sakura; I really wanted to convey what it's like to love somebody you can't be with. I apologize if you find any of these characters OOC, it probably seems that way since it's mostly Sasuke's POV. Where his feelings are typically a mystery, in this fic it's all out in the open.

Again, if this story is not for you, please feel free to stop reading at any time. (That wasn't me being passive aggressive xD)

**P.S.** In case anyone was worried, no matter how tragic this fic may seem, of COURSE there's going to be a happy ending! They deserve all the happiness in the world! So just hold on tight okay? :D

_**My Bestfriend's Girlfriend**_

chapter four

x

The first thing Sasuke notices when consciousness creeps into his psyche is just how terribly vivid his dreams about Sakura are becoming.

The second thing being the sharp pulsing pain between his temples—a hangover of the most irritating degree.

As usual, the guilt of having wet dreams about his best friend's girlfriend squeezes his heart, even if he knows deep down that Naruto doesn't deserve her in the least.

But it isn't like he can control it. His mind does what it wants. And it usually only wants one thing, and one thing only.

_Her._

So it's no surprise to him when he feels his arousal stirring between his legs as he recalls the graphic dream, reliving all of the dirty little details. Instinctively, he reaches down to relieve himself of his sweet misery—

Only to realize he can't move.

His eyes snap wide open.

It's only then, in that moment, that he registers the warm slender body splayed on top of him, trapping him against his mattress and snuggled up to his chin. With his right arm pinned beneath her waist and holding her against him, all the air in his body whooshes out of his lungs in paralyzing shock.

The next thing Sasuke realizes is that they're both completely naked.

Sasuke's world comes crashing down in a matter of seconds and he's all at once struggling to breathe in his sudden panic.

_No_, he thinks behind the incessant pounding in his skull, _no fucking way. _

Swallowing against his thundering heartbeat, he looks down at the mess of pink locks tickling his chin and the serene sleeping face of the woman in his arms.

Carefully, slowly—_so painfully slow_—Sasuke attempts to retract his arm and slide out from underneath her. Lightly shifting onto one side, he tries to wriggle away just enough to free himself.

When a soft moan escapes her lips, Sasuke stiffens and freezes, closing his eyes in silent prayer that she hasn't just awoken from his small movement.

After a long, tense silence in which she remains completely still, Sasuke thanks whatever God is watching over him as he very carefully slides out from underneath her, positioning her on her side.

When she is finally off of him, Sasuke shoots straight up into a sitting position, burying his face in his hands with shame and confusion, chest heaving.

Because there's no way that this is real.

And then, as if that single thought triggers an onslaught of vivid memories; last night flashes before his eyes in a fast forwarded blur—the drinks, the laughs, the teasing, the reminiscing, the dancing, the _kissing_, the overwhelming feelings, the aggressive need, the desperate fingers and glazed eyes full of _want, _her sweet voice screaming out his name and begging him to fuck her _harder_—

"Oh, shit." He whispers under his breath, every second of realization worse than the last. "No . . . No . . . No . . . "

_This isn't real_, he insists despite the evidence before him. _It isn't real. _

But when his palms slide down his face and he glances over to the beautiful sleeping woman just beside him, the ghost of a smile on her lips, it's the realest thing he's ever seen.

As he stares down at her, however, his heart clenches with the sudden desire to crawl back under the blankets, wrap his arms around her, and lay in bed with her for the rest of his life.

And never come out.

The urge to kiss those sleeping lips makes him cringe with shame. He covers his eyes once more, as if he can hide himself from the mind-blowing disaster he's just created.

There's a dull, sharp pain between his shoulder blades where angry red lines stretch down his skin, a physical souvenir of their treachery.

_'Fuck me.' _Her hot, throaty voice begs in his ear, distant yet unmistakably definite in his mind.

Naruto's smiling face flashes through his memory, a reminder of who he has just stabbed in the back.

And then six years worth of images and memories of Naruto and Sakura flicker behind his palms; a million kisses, one thousand hugs. A billion _I love you's_ and a trillion _forever and ever's._

The talk of marriage and kids—

_Jesus Christ, what the fuck have I done?_

He's just ruined her future. His best friend's future. And his own—just like that.

There's no rewind, no undo; just Sasuke, his unrequited love for the naked woman beside him, and the biggest fuck-up of their entire life.

"Sakura?!"

Sasuke startles, head snapping up. Panic bursts in his chest and explodes in his stomach at the sound of Naruto's call just outside.

"Sakura? Are you here?"

He's too focused on controlling his breathing to notice Sakura's eyes fluttering open. She blinks several times, disoriented, before she slowly sits up.

"Mmm . . . Sasuke?"

It takes her a moment, but when she finally comprehends that she's completely naked and that her bare breasts are open to his horrified gaze, terror twists her sleepy features and her eyes blow wide. She snatches at the blankets to cover her indecency. "What the f—?!"

Sasuke is quick to clamp a hand over her mouth.

Fingers trembling, he presses his forehead against hers and whispers frantically, "You have to be quiet for a second, just—just for one second. You have to trust me."

The horror in her eyes echo his own, and it's then, as she stares at him as if he's turned into a monster, that he knows the night before is flashing before her eyes like it did his moments ago.

When tears begin to gather in the corners of her eyes, his heart breaks.

"_Sakura_," He breathes, voice saturated with shame and a hidden plea for forgiveness. His hand leaves her mouth to brush a falling tear from her cheek. "Listen to me—"

She pushes his hand away and leans back, bare chest heaving beneath her white-knuckled grip on his blanket. The betrayal in her eyes is bright and clear, making his chest lurch with so much regret that he feels bile rise up his throat.

Eyebrows cinching, she opens her mouth—

"Sakura?"

They both snap their heads to the door that is wide open.

And when heavy footsteps make their way down the hall and toward his room, Sasuke quickly throws himself over her, pinning her beneath him and hiding her small frame. He pulls the covers over them just as Naruto steps into the threshold.

"Sasuke?"

To Naruto, the covered lump on the bed before him looks as if Sasuke is sleeping on his stomach, obsidian hair poking just outside the blanket.

Beneath him, Sakura trembles with silent sobs, dampening his bare chest with endless tears that make Sasuke's own eyes sting. He presses his naked body as flush against hers as he can, trying to offer her some small amount of comfort. He tries to ignore the soft swell of her breasts against his skin and the humiliating fact that his morning arousal involuntarily hardens between her legs at the feel of her naked flesh.

Swallowing, he calls out with the guise of having just been woken up by the blond's inquiry: "What do you want?"

"You're still sleeping? It's like noon, dude. Don't you have class?"

Sasuke clenches his teeth, not quite giving a flying fuck about school right now. Clearing his throat, he calls out: "I'm sick, idiot. Get out of my room."

When another violent sob wracks Sakura's body pinned underneath him, he leans back just enough to see the grief on her face as she cries silently, eyes squeezed shut and tears streaming down her cheeks. She looks broken, so torn with anguish that tears dangerously tremble in his own eyes.

_I did this to her_, he can't help but dread, stomach tightening with the horrifying fact. _I did this to her._

"_Don't do that_." He leans in and whispers against her lips, voice strained. Distressed obsidian orbs flicker over her whole face.

_Please don't cry._

"Have you seen Sakura?"

Sasuke continues to stare down at her heart wrenching expression, watching with sloped eyes as tear after tear races down the sides of her face and soaks his sheets. "I think . . . she went to campus early for breakfast."

"Oh, okay. I texted her and she hasn't messaged me back. I feel really bad about last night and I'm worried she's mad at me. If you see her, tell her I love her and that I'll take her out tonight, okay? I'm heading to class, so I'll see ya later."

Sakura cries harder and this time a dry sob almost breaks out of his own mouth as he croaks: "I will."

"I hope you feel better, bastard. You're no fun when you're sick." Naruto laughs before he reaches forward and shuts the door.

A guttural cry falls from her lips and Sakura sobs violently, entire body shaking with harrowing remorse as if the sound of the door closing unleashes the _real_ anguish she had been holding back.

Sasuke cups her face in a panic, quickly thumbing away her tears but does nothing to stop the single one that threatens to fall from his own. His chest hitches with a restricted sob.

"It's going to be alright." He whispers as if they both hadn't just stabbed their best friend in the back in the worst possible way imaginable—as if they haven't just basically ruined their lives. In a desperate attempt to console her, he brushes his fingers through her tear-soaked hair and hesitantly kisses her cheek, her nose, her forehead.

But she doesn't stop crying.

She cries and cries, every whimper more heartbreaking than the last.

Because she's just thrown away six years of her life with Naruto, and endless years that were still to come.

"I—cheated." Sakura finally manages through hiccups, "I cheated, Sasuke. Oh god, I cheated on him—!"

Unsure of what to say at this point but willing to do _anything_ to stop her tears, Sasuke simply rolls them over and pulls her back onto his chest, cradling her head against his racing heart and running his hands though her hair.

Through the tight walls of his throat, he finally tells her: "I am so sorry, Sakura." He swallows what feels like shards of glass, "I never meant for this to happen. I was drunk—"

At this, she rips herself from his grip and sits up to glare down at him, shoulders still shaking. "_Sasuke_—" she hisses through clenched teeth before she pauses, lips trembling and eyes widening with a terrifying thought. As the memory of him ordering her continuous drinks flashes through her mind, she doesn't want to believe it. Although irrational, it's the only conclusion that seems plausible. "Did you plan this . . . ?"

Sasuke scrambles up on his elbows, eyes wide.

"No!" He snaps, heart exploding with fear before his voice drops to an incredulous whisper. "I would never—"

She shakes her head, holding a hand to her forehead as her eyes tighten with pained frustration. "No, I know you would never do that, Sasuke. I'm sorry I don't know why I . . . I'm just—I'm jumping to conclusions, I'm so fucking confused right now. This is all my fault—"

"I would never hurt you." Sasuke breathes, deep voice laced with disbelief and a hint of betrayal, as if the assumption itself fractures what little trust now lays between them.

She stares at him for a long moment, letting the situation sink in and weigh heavy on her heart.

"Why . . . " She breathes finally, more tears spilling over her cheeks. The glossy redness in her eyes makes the emerald hue of them shine so bright that for a moment, Sasuke is inappropriately lost in the beauty of them. She hides her face in her hands, whispering once more. "Why?"

"Do you regret it?" He blurts stupidly, despite how obviously fucked up the question is—he doesn't know where the question comes from, but it's out of his mouth before he can stop it.

Her hands fall from her face to reveal the icy shock on her features. "_What_ did you just say?"

"I asked," he swallows nervously, sitting up more properly and unsure why he ever opened his mouth, "Do you regret it?"

And that's when he sees it.

That small window of a second where the truth flashes across her face. The hesitance in her eyes.

_'No.' _Her eyes say.

Hope swells in his heart, eyes widening.

As expected, however, a moment later she barks: "Of course I regret it! I'm _living_ with my boyfriend of six years, Sasuke! Your best friend! Have you _lost_ your _mind_?!"

_Yes_, he thinks, _he has. _

Because he suddenly finds that the hesitance he saw in her eyes, no matter how small or how fleeting, changes **everything**.

Eyes still swollen, she sniffles angrily.

Feeling strangely confident, Sasuke reaches out to caress her cheek—slowly, as if he were about to pet a rattlesnake ready to strike—and tests his new theory.

Sasuke stares into her eyes, closely studying her reaction. And when his knuckles gently touch her cheek, he watches as the rigidity of her shoulders slacken, watches as the corners of her puffy eyes soften—she melts under his touch.

And then she _blushes_.

His breath catches in his throat and before he can stop himself, he's leaning inwards, eyes flickering against her own with awe.

In his peripheral, Sasuke sees her swallow.

Carefully, he then lifts her chin, angling her lips to the ones that are drawing imperceptibly close to hers. Watching for any sign of rejection to flash across her eyes and heart pounding when it doesn't, their noses tap—

And then he tilts his head, closes his eyes, and presses his lips against hers so agonizingly soft that they both shiver.

He draws back slightly, cracking open his eyes to gauge her reaction.

"Sasuke," She breathes against his lips—and his name is so heavy with repressed desire that he slams his lips against hers; this time with a confidence that has his hands in her hair and tongue slipping into her mouth. He lets himself taste every part of her for the actual first time.

A sober kiss—a real kiss.

Their _first_ real kiss.

What's more: she's kissing him _back_, tongue swirling in his mouth with just as much urgency as his own. His palms splay on either side of her throat and he inhales sharply through his nose, the force of his kiss heightening in time with his desperation.

_I love you_, his mind whispers between every slope of their lips, feeling as if his heart is about to burst. _More than anything._

_Stay with me._

_Be with me._

As their lips continue to crash against one another, his hands slowly move downward where he tugs the blanket from her firm grip. The fabric pools at her waist, leaving her upper-body exposed to him. Carefully, he cups her bare breasts, filling each palm with the soft weight of her mounds. She whimpers into his mouth when he squeezes them, body leaning into his palms as if she wants _more_.

Sasuke's cock is instantly hard, control already slipping. A delicious ache twitches between his thighs. Far more awake now than he had been earlier, the explicit memories from last night comes flooding back, makes precum bead at his slit and his legs tingle with anticipation. She was _so_ tight, so warm and wet, he remembers. She cried out for him. She _wanted_ him. It was an experience unlike any other he's ever had in his entire life.

But he doesn't want to _fuck_ her this time.

Sasuke wants to make love to her like he's dreamed about his whole life; slow, sensual, passionate—he needs her to _feel_ his love for her, if not through his words but through his actions.

He needs her to know that what happened last night wasn't the result of some short-term conquest.

He needs her to know that he would do anything for her.

He needs her to know that he would cross oceans just to hear her laugh.

Sakura herself feels hot liquid surfacing between her thighs, where she's painfully sore from the unforgiving girth and length of the man before her. Her inner walls pulse with the memory, clenching and unclenching as his tongue slides around her mouth.

Overwhelmed with arousal, Sakura secretly slips a hand beneath the blanket to ease the ache, running her fingers along the slick mess between her folds as he continues to gently squeeze and knead her breasts.

Sasuke opens his eyes partly, glancing down to see what she's doing between them. When he realizes that she's openly playing with herself, his eyes widen before he growls with approval, dropping a hand to grip his own throbbing desire and shuddering when she quietly moans into his mouth.

They touch themselves as they continue to swap saliva, paces accelerating along with their lips. For a moment, they forget _who_ and _what_ they are and what they're doing. Over and over; their lips meet. With heads tilted and tongues rolling around one another, they are not in Sasuke's room, but rather some perfect place they've never been.

Where they're supposed to be.

Hearts hammering in sync, Sasuke tugs and twists himself as Sakura frantically rubs the sweet spot between her legs. His tongue sweeps her whole mouth, ravenous with greed; swallowing the sweet flavor of her urgency as she blooms before him, coming to life with a roaring flame that has been long since dormant.

There's a secret in the eager way her tongue rolls around his, in the way she falls into him as if giving into a guilty pleasure; a message in which the phrase _actions speak louder than words _pluck at his heartstrings.

It goes without saying that she has let her guard down before him, the unspoken wall between them crumbling brick by brick with every heartbeat.

She's giving herself to him in the shape of vulnerability; trusting his mouth, his lips, his fingers as his thumbs flick against her pebbling breasts. With his heart as her guide, she lets him lead her over the edge until she's free falling before him.

He's there to catch her when she falls, free hand flying to the arch of her back as her lips fall open against his with a stuttering cry. And then he's all at once falling with her; release snapping, liquid spurting from his pulsing length and onto the blanket between them as a broken hum spills from his open mouth to hers.

But when her climax retreats as fast it comes, Sakura breaks the kiss with a start, pulling away with shock on her features and tears in her eyes. She claws her hands over her face, teeth clenching as she shakes her head. "No—God, no, Sasuke! What the fuck are we doing?! What am _I_ doing?!"

Sasuke's heart cracks with disappointment despite knowing very well what they've just done—_again_. The impossibility of what he truly desires, what he really wants and what they can never have, makes the lingering euphoria of his orgasm dissipate into a swirl of dread.

Sasuke looks away.

Sakura pinches the bridge of her nose, attempting to regain control of the situation, grasping onto any rational explanation. "I think maybe we're just . . . confused right now. Or—or maybe we're just still drunk or something."

Concern flickers to life in his eyes as they snap to hers. "You're still drunk?"

Sakura frowns, hesitating. And then she softly confesses, "No . . . Are you?"

"No."

A silence rings between them, staring at one another as comprehension ticks behind their eyes. Emerald locked with onyx, he watches with bated breath as a string of emotion flickers across her face—confusion, hesitance, disbelief, incredulity—

Until, finally: fright.

Sakura hastily scrambles out of his bed, nearly flopping onto the floor when she trips on her attempt to drag the blanket with her to remain decent.

Sasuke swings himself off the side of the bed and stands up, ready to help collect her stray clothes—

"Sasuke!" She gasps, slapping a palm over her eyes when she sees _all_ of him. "Oh my god!"

Flustered, and a little confused by her behavior considering the obscenity of what they just did, he immediately sits back down and covers himself with a pillow. Her sudden shyness makes him feel strangely embarrassed.

Then, he watches her scoop up her discarded clothes, wincing when she holds up her ripped bra, flimsy red lace frayed and irreparable.

"Really?" She scolds, another round of tears burning in her eyes as she glares at him. Her cheeks are as pink as her hair. "The one bra Naruto actually bought me?"

Sasuke quickly looks away, ears heating at the memory of ripping it off of her body. He shrugs.

Obviously, a drunken Sasuke is an impatient Sasuke.

She takes a deep breath. "Please turn around so I can change."

Sasuke covers his eyes.

"Turn _around, _Sasuke." She insists. "Please."

Sasuke turns his whole body around, eyes still covered.

"Thank you," He hears her say, and then far more softly, "We have to . . . talk about this later. I really just—I need to think right now. This is so fucked up, Sasuke. I cheated on him. I really—I really cheated."

_We_ cheated, Sasuke inwardly corrects, knowing he holds every bit as much responsibility as she does.

By the crack of her voice, he knows that she's crying again.

"I have to tell him."

Sasuke stiffens, just catching himself from turning around in shock. "No, that's not—"

"A good idea?!" She finishes for him, anger burning her throat, "Yeah, well, neither was _THIS_! What the hell do you expect me to do, Sasuke?! Lie to his damn face?!"

"You can't tell him!" Sasuke hisses in alarm, the sickening image of betrayal on his best friend's face churning his stomach. Once he tames his sudden panic, he says more gently, "Not yet."

Silence.

He repeats softly, "Not yet."

". . . Sas—"

"_Sakura_." He implores, jaw tight. "Just not . . . yet."

Because he doesn't need to be a fortune teller to predict the inevitable; he knows what's going to happen. And without a doubt, it will involve fists, blood, stitches, and all the things Sakura doesn't need to see. Sasuke doesn't want to fight to Naruto, despite the intense impulse now and then with the way he treats Sakura, but he knows if Naruto finds out what they've done, he will come after him with everything he's got. And so, too, will Sasuke.

If Naruto comes after him, Sasuke isn't going to hold back.

It won't be pretty; but more than anything, he can't risk Sakura being in the way. If she were to throw herself between a flurry of fists, there's always a chance she could get seriously hurt—by _them_.

Sasuke isn't an idiot, he knows Sakura better than he knows himself. She would launch herself between them; she would do anything to stop them from beating each other to a bloody pulp.

After all, she's done it once before.

He will never take that risk again.

There's a ruffle of clothing, the drop of the blanket to the floor and then—

He hears the blanket flop back onto the mattress, and by the time he deems it safe to turn around, the door is already shutting behind her.

Hesitantly, Sasuke pulls the blanket over top of his naked body and lays back down, headache returning full throttle and heart tugging in a million directions.

The second he tries to close his eyes, however, the night before flares to life in his hazy memory.

He remembers the dazzling smile she wore as she danced in his arms—the joy in her eyes as he twirled her around.

He remembers the warmth of her lips sealed over his when she leapt right into his arms, fingers tangled in his hair.

He remembers the deep messy kisses, filled with such genuine longing and passion that he knows is impossible to deny, impossible to fake.

He remembers how _wet_ she was for him.

It was all real, he remembers.

She wasn't just drunk; it wasn't just some spontaneous one-night stand all because her stupid boyfriend couldn't get his priorities straight.

The sparkle in her eyes when she looked up at him, the pure happiness on her face, the giggles, the flush of her cheeks every time he stared at her a little too long. That silly little tapping of her foot.

All night, she had smiled and laughed. All night, she had displayed the body language of someone who—

His eyes snap open with a start.

The more he thinks about it, the more he remembers; the more solid the truth becomes.

And when he thinks about the hesitance he caught in her eyes just before she touched herself with him—

_Sakura still loves me. _

\- x -

The next four weeks are torture.

Clearly, she has yet to tell Naruto anything if the way he's still being his stupid cheerful self is any indication—and the fact that Naruto hasn't tried to bury his fist in his face.

Although Sasuke is somewhat relieved that they have yet to face the inevitable consequences, he can't help but feel his stomach drop every time the three of them are in the same room.

At first, uncertain, fleeting glances are exchanged between them every time Naruto has his back turned, every time they think he isn't looking.

Their dirty little secret hangs over them like a rumbling storm cloud, following them every where they go.

They never speak about it; never bring it up. It's swept under the rug, just like those words he said to her all those years ago.

But then, one day, Sakura stops speaking to him altogether.

When she passes him on campus, instead of jumping to hug and greet him with a bright smile like she usually does, she ducks her head and whooshes right past him.

She takes his heart with her as she goes.

At the dinner table, her guilty green eyes avoid his, poking at her white rice as Naruto blabs about his perfect play at the football game. As Sasuke pretends to listen to the blond's overly edited story, obsidian eyes drift to her. The weight of her guilt pulls at his heart from across the table and the emptiness in her green eyes as she stares down at her half eaten dinner makes him lose his own appetite.

As the three of them sit on the couch and watch some cheesy flick they've already seen dozens of times, Sakura makes a point of curling into Naruto as if he can protect her from her own mistake. She angles her knees away from Sasuke who sits beside her, leans her whole body away from him like he's some parasitic spider.

Elbow on the armrest and chin in his palm, Sasuke strains to watch the movie before them, attempting to block out the woman next to him and trying to pretend like he doesn't notice the exaggerated expanse between their bodies.

He gets fed up by the middle of the movie.

Eyes hard, he stands and retreats to his room where he closes his door with a little more force than he intends.

Naruto doesn't notice the teardrops that soak his shirt, or the way his girlfriend peeks over his shoulder to glance down the hall.

When Sasuke enters the kitchen, she instantly drops whatever she is doing and makes her way back to her room.

She avoids any room of the house he's in as if he carries the plague.

They don't mention their inside jokes, don't share teasing smiles, don't hold each other's eyes from across the room like they once did.

She doesn't send him pictures she used to find on the internet that make her full-bellied laugh carry down the hall from her room and through his open door. She doesn't call him on her way home from her hospital shift to ask if he's eaten already or if she should stop and get him something.

Sakura asks Naruto to get the sugar down from the top shelf instead of him like she always does; _'It's because he's taller!' _She once had to explain to a sulking Naruto, and the smug smirk on the Uchiha's lips would make her giggle uncontrollably.

She doesn't bring him a glass of water and sliced tomatoes like she used to when she passes the open door of his room and notices how hard he's studying at his desk, countless cases and files splayed out before him.

Every time she turns her back on him, every time she goes out of her way to avoid him, every time she averts her gaze from his searching one, a piece of him breaks a little more.

Because he can't live like this.

Sakura is not only the love of his life, but aside from Naruto, she is _also_ his best friend. These days, he thinks she's even more of his best friend than the idiot himself.

And as the days run by, his life slowly dwindles into a depressing grey blur of guilt and self-loathing.

He's distracted, his perfect grades are falling for the first time in his life. He wakes up in the middle of the night thinking that she's crying beneath him.

The world is colorless; too little pink and too little green.

Downtown, he passes the coffee shop they used to escape to between classes; sees the apparition of the two of them just on the other side of the glass, her head thrown back with a laugh as he tastes her sickeningly sweet latte. He sees the love burning in his own eyes as his former self watches her from across the table. He wonders if he's always been that obvious. He wonders if she's ever noticed.

On the edge of campus, he strolls by the bench swing she used to make him sit on as she worked on her laptop next to him, bench slowly swaying in time with the leisure pump of her legs. When she had been too absorbed by her medical jargon to pay him any attention, he would lay his head back and carefully place an arm behind her, closing his eyes against the warm sun as the soft breeze lulled him to sleep. Her presence beside him was all he ever needed to feel at peace.

Little moments they've shared hits him when he expects it the least. Torturing him, taunting him—a whisper of simple memories that hold significance where in any normal mind they would not.

The memories only amplify in her absence, springing to life in every corner of his heart, every last one of them an unbearable reminder of what he has lost.

In the library, he can't read a single line of his notes without hearing her drunken giggle, can't highlight a single sentence of his book without her heart wrenching sobs echoing distantly in his ears—

His elbows come down on the table and he buries his face in his hands, shoulders rigid with the realization that nothing between he and Sakura will ever be the same again.

He feels as if he's gone crazy.

He hates himself.

He's went and dug a grave under his own two feet.

The strange looks from the other students around him go unnoticed.

\- x -

The days bleed into weeks, and before they both know it—another three weeks goes by.

Neither of them speak.

Neither of them make eye contact.

It's gotten to the point where Sasuke's stomach is turning before he even enters the apartment, knowing that Sakura's cold indifference will be waiting for him on the other side of their front door.

There are so many things he wants to say as he passes by her shuffling form in the kitchen, eyes drifting to the back that has now been permanently turned away from him.

But he strides by with hands in his pockets and head down, swallowing every word.

Sasuke doesn't quite blame her for refusing to speak to him; it's awkward, it's strange, it's uncomfortable. He's a constant reminder that she's a _cheater_—it's easier for her to pretend that he doesn't exist rather than acknowledge her own fault.

He would be angry if he wasn't quite doing the same. For as desperate as he is to speak to her, he doesn't.

Together, they form an immeasurable distance, forged by cowardice and their reluctance to communicate; polar opposite of their previous friendship.

He starts to wonder if he can simply let go, if he can manage to shut her out for the rest of his life, just as she seems to be doing to him. After all, Sasuke knows being madly in love with a girl he can never have is emotional suicide. It's unhealthy, it's fucked up, it's everything that's wrong with him.

He's never felt such agony; hates it with every fiber of his being. It's as confusing as it is humiliating, knowing _one girl_ has this much power over him. He's diseased with guilt, sickened by his growing obsession.

Finally, Sasuke comes to the conclusion that he doesn't _want_ to love her anymore.

So he tries to imagine life without her, even goes so far as to look for a new apartment, hellbent on never looking back and determined to throw away all sixteen years of their companionship.

But when he accidentally opens up an IM tab between the two of them, his breath hitches when he sees her last message, dated just two days before their coupling:

_'Good luck on your exam, Sasuke! You'll do great, as always! xx'_

Above it is a picture of her, holding up a peace sign and a smile so achingly beautiful that Sasuke has to shut his laptop.

\- x -

Naruto has noticed. At first, the blond likely thought the two just had a stupid argument, as they've had only one or two real ones in the past. But naturally, the small irrational feuds between he and Sakura never lasted more than a day or two. And it was never over anything as serious as their current predicament.

The first time Sakura had ever gotten mad—_truly_ mad—at him was when they had been seventeen.

It had been at some party, and a stupid one at that. He, Naruto, and Sakura had decided to show up late, have a few drinks, enjoy themselves for a few hours, and then head home.

Nothing crazy.

At the time, Itachi had just bought him his first car; a snazzy sleek ride that Sasuke was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet to drive.

And so he had quite generously offered to be their designated driver, and since they were drinking underage, he was given the explicit responsibility to make sure nothing happened to any of them.

But then someone offered him a drink. And young, naïve seventeen year old Sasuke, who had never before consumed more than four drinks in one sitting before, figured one drink wouldn't hurt.

One drink turned into eight, and when the night was over and it was time to go, Sasuke staggered to the driver's side of his car parked on the curb, keys nearly scraping the black polished paint as he drunkenly tried to jam the keys into the lock.

_'What the hell are you doing?!' _Came Sakura's gasp from the porch steps.

Sasuke waved a dismissive hand as he called to her from across the yard. _'I called my brother and told him to pick you up.'_

He purposely omitted Naruto, petty spite slipping through his intoxication.

_'You told Itachi we were drinking?!'_

Sasuke shook his head before he staggered forward, grabbing onto the hood of his car to keep his balance.

_'No, I just . . .'_ He then proceeded to stumble backwards, hands flying out to maintain his equilibrium. _'I told him you needed a ride. I can't risk driving you home, Sakura. My brother will get you home safely. I've had . . . a few drinks, but I can drive myself home just fine.' _

He hadn't even finished explaining himself before she had marched across the yard, fists curled. She rounded his car, eyebrows cinched with anger. Hair curled, lips glossed, and shirt cropped; she looked like the goddess of wrath coming to bestow upon him divine punishment.

_'Are you telling me you plan on driving home _**_drunk_**_?!'_

_'I'm not drunk,'_ he slurred even as he wobbled on his own two feet, far more drunk than he had thought he was at the time. _'Just a few drinks. I'm not leaving my new car here.'_

Sakura grabbed him by the collar of his black sweater and tugged him downward, fury crackling in her radiant green eyes as she forced his face to hers. _'Have you lost it?! You're completely wasted, Sasuke!'_

_'I'm not,' _he insisted angrily, trying to pry her dainty hands from his chest. When she didn't let go, his own temper flared, emotions magnified under the influence. _'Let go of me, Sakura!'_

_'No!'_ Her fist twisted tighter into the fabric, determined to keep him in place because she knew if she let go, he would try to climb into his car. _'You're not driving anywhere!'_

_'Let—go, Sakura!' _He tugged and tugged, but either his power had been dulled by the alcohol or she had ridiculously terrifying strength.

_'You'll end up fucking killing yourself!'_

_'I told you I'm fucking fine, Sakura!' _

But when he finally managed to pry her hands off of him, having zero balance, the sudden release of resistance threw him backwards. He fell hard onto the road, head smacking the asphalt. Sakura was kneeling at his side in seconds.

_'Oh my god, Sasuke! Oh my god! Are you okay—?! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—!'_

Properly pissed, he pushed her worried hands away before he angrily snatched the keys that had fallen from his hands and clambered back onto his feet. He shoved the key into the lock, blatantly ignoring Sakura's grabbing hands as she tried to pull him away from the door.

_'Sasuke, stop! You can't drive right now—!'_ Her screaming protests were cut off by the slam of his door once he settled in. When she reached for the handle, he promptly locked the doors. Her fists pounded on the window, tears rolling down her cheeks. _'Sasuke, please! Please don't do this! You're drunk, Sasuke! Open this door right now!'_

He sat unmoving for a moment with his hands on the steering wheel, incoherently trying to process the situation and confused as to why Sakura was so fucking angry with him when he was _obviously_ fine.

Looking over at her tear-streaked face painted in fear behind the window as she continued to pound, his heart clenched. He didn't know why she was so upset, but no matter how much he wanted to, even in his intoxicated state of mind, he couldn't bring himself to just leave her like that.

He unlocked the doors.

Not a moment later, Sakura threw open the door and climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs as her arms wrapped around his neck. She sobbed into his nape, fingers threading into his dark locks as she cradled his head against her shoulder. _'Don't fucking scare me like that, you idiot!'_

He blinked heavily, but the thing Sasuke distinctly remembers about that moment four years ago is the scent of her shampoo and the fact that she was sitting so intimately in his lap. She was so warm and she smelt so good; it was like being hugged by the physical embodiment of spring.

But above all, he remembers thinking how much he loved Sakura: the seventeen year old girl in his lap whose arms were wrapped around him like a vice, protecting him from his own stupidity, even despite his childish temperament.

Sasuke's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her even closer as he buried his face in her hair. They sat embraced in his car; her crying and him unable to see straight.

And then his brother came twenty minutes later.

Which hadn't been pretty when he found out what his little brother had been trying to do.

Looking back, he finds it hard to forgive himself for letting her go out of her mind with worry that night. Young, reckless, and still simmering with unforgiving jealously at she and Naruto's fresh relationship at the time—he made a lot of stupid mistakes.

"What's with you and Sakura?" Naruto asks one day in the Student Union while Sakura stands patiently in line for her own lunch.

Sasuke shifts uncomfortably, eyes glancing to her form across the room before he reaches for his water bottle as if it can protect him from the idiot's imprudent curiosity.

"Seriously, I haven't seen you guys talking in weeks. I mean I know you guys are super busy and all, but you guys always find a way to make time for each other." He frowns and crosses his arms. "Is there something you guys aren't telling me?"

Sasuke splutters on the mouthful of water he's just attempted to swallow. A vivid image of Sakura spread eagled and gorgeously messy before him flashes in his mind.

Naruto blinks before tossing him a napkin across the table to clean up the liquid that has just spewed from the Uchiha's mouth. "Hey! Don't choke, bastard. It was just a question; if you guys need to sort something out, just do it already. I'm tired of seeing you both moping around and sucking the life out of the apartment." His voice grows eerily quiet then, cerulean eyes distant and dejected. Dread stirs in Sasuke's stomach, "I tried asking Sakura about it but she never seems to want to open up to me anymore."

He inwardly winces.

"It's nothing." Sasuke dismisses.

_Nothing personal. _

\- x -

As Sasuke lays in bed and stares up at his ceiling, he clings to the hesitance he saw in her eyes that day, back when they both woke up confused and disoriented and lost. He holds on to the magic of that night, back when he twirled her around the dance floor to her favorite song, drunk and free and happy.

She was _so_ happy, he remembers.

He plays that evening over and over in his head each night before he falls asleep, disgusted with himself despite the persistence of his broken heart.

But most of all, he thinks of the morning after, when they intimately touched themselves together as they kissed—_soberly_, he might add. She made the rational decision to kiss him, touch herself, and whimper right into his open mouth.

However, his mind always circles back to one truth, and one truth only:

She let him kiss her.

And she kissed him _back_.

\- x -

**A/N:** Please don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you think :D ~Sloshi


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: Firstly, I'd just like to start off by saying I literally love Naruto. This story is **not** a Naruto-bashing fic whatsoever. His character in this fanfiction is in no way meant to represent how I see him, it's just simply who he is in this Alternate Universe for this Bestfriend's Girlfriend trope/headcannon. I know this story is controversial, but that's kind of the point. Nobody in this fic is really innocent.

Secondly, this fic was just supposed to be a short angsty smutfic, so i'm sorry if anyone expected a 100k word story. Short, sad, sweet, and hot. A guilty pleasure fic, if you will. xD

Anyway, enjoy this **_thicc_** ass chapter that I almost never uploaded. Special thanks to Loonymoony & Littlecreepy-girl for beta reading :D

_**My Bestfriend's Girlfriend**_

_chapter 5_

_x_

_x_

_x_

Sakura is worse off than him.

She doesn't smile anymore, doesn't really react to much. The light is gone from her eyes and her thoughts are a constant jumbled mess of self-hatred and mental self-torture.

She avoids mirrors and anything that has a reflective surface, unable to stomach even looking at herself.

Unable to forgive herself.

Every time she looks into Naruto's happy cerulean eyes, she hates herself even more.

"What's wrong, babe?" He asks as they crawl into bed one night. Sakura flips off her bedside lamp but Naruto keeps his on, concern glimmering in his eyes as he rolls over to see her face. "You've been acting really strange these past few weeks . . . Are you okay?"

She stares up at the ceiling in silence, eyes empty.

"Is it because . . . I forgot our anniversary?"

"No." She whispers, thighs squeezing together as she imagines Sasuke moving deep inside her.

Strong fingers digging into her skin, hips hammering into hers as if to nail her to his bed; she doesn't remember sex _ever_ feeling so good.

She doesn't remember _anything_ feeling so good.

Her core involuntarily pulses at the thought that _he_ is just on the other side of the wall; shirtless, messy black hair, bedroom eyes, the softest lips—

_Is he thinking of me too?_

A pang of shock jolts her from her shameless thoughts, heart dropping into her stomach.

She shifts to look at Naruto then; at the worry in his eyes.

And then, as she looks at him, _truly_ looks at him—his tanned skin, whiskered scars on either cheek, sunshine blond hair, and an ocean of love in his eyes—she tries to feel something.

Anything but the remorse rotting her soul.

She tries to feel the genuine love she once held for him, tries to remember the way she felt years ago when he kissed her for the first time in the front seat of his car parked in his parent's driveway.

She tries to remember the way her heart would pound every time he held her hand, the way her stomach would flip at the way he looked at her, the way his hands held her hips as he rocked into her for the first time.

The rush, the butterflies, the _thrill_—

Everything that should be there is simply not. No matter how deep she reaches, no matter how terribly she aches to feel something that is not there . . .

Still, she tries.

She tries to feel something that isn't pity, tries to feel how she's _supposed_ to feel laying in bed with the man she's supposed to marry one day.

She tries to feel . . .

How Sasuke makes her feel.

But as she looks at the genuine concern marring her boyfriend's face, she finds—with ice in her heart—that she feels . . .

_Scared_.

"Well, if something's bothering you, just say so, y'know. I hate when you get all cold shouldered and distant—reminds me too much of the bastard." He frowns a little, eyes thoughtful as he pauses. "I do love you, Sakura. You know that, right?"

She nods, throat tightening.

_'You have no idea,'_ Sasuke's drunken voice whispers in her heart, sending butterflies flapping along the walls of her stomach at the memory, _'how long I've wanted this.'_

Naruto leans in to tap his lips against hers.

She sleeps facing the wall.

\- x -

"You don't get to choose who you love, Sasuke."

The younger Uchiha scowls as Itachi places a steaming mug of black coffee before him, taking a seat across the table. Identical onyx eyes gleam with intrigue over the rim of his own mug as he takes a sip, eyeing his younger brother in a way that makes him feel twelve.

"That's not what I asked."

Itachi studies him for a long moment, considering him with a look that is neither praising nor patronizing.

Sasuke shifts in his seat, annoyed. It was mortifying enough seeking him out like this as it is.

Unreadable, Itachi cooly sips his drink, a sage of wisdom so unlike his domestic surroundings.

Another long silence passes before the elder Uchiha finally sets his mug on the table top. Sasuke unconsciously straightens his posture, ears perking at whatever scholarly advice his brother might offer, desperate for answers.

Itachi interlaces his fingers on the tabletop, the edges of his eyes softening with an emotion Sasuke has troubling defining.

"But you do love her."

His reply is instantaneous; he's never been so sure of something in his life.

"Yes."

It's then that Itachi fixes him with a look so sharp, so undeniably powerful, that a shockwave of fear ripples down Sasuke's spine.

"Tell her."

\- x -

It didn't used to be like this, Sakura can't help but think as Naruto shrugs on his Konoha University jacket, back turned.

He didn't used to get mad like this, he didn't used to _be_ like this.

"Hurry up, Sakura." He ushers as he grabs his keys. "How do you take so long to get ready? What the hell do you even _do_ in there?" He turns to point a finger at the digital clock on the microwave that reads 8:06PM, "Didn't you hear what time I told you to be ready by? It's after eight, so now we're going to be late."

She lightly touches her freshly straightened hair, self conscious. "I, uh—I thought it was a date, so I—"

"A date?" He interjects, genuinely surprised. "I already told you we were meeting Kiba and Hinata at the bars."

"Is that . . . not a date?" She asks, eyes stinging like hellfire and tears threatening to spill over her cheeks. As Kiba and Hinata have been seeing each other, naturally, Sakura had taken it as a double date.

On his way to pour himself a glass of water, Sasuke stops dead in his tracks the moment he hears their voices, secretly listening from the shadowed hallway.

"It can be whatever you want it to be, I guess." He shrugs, turning away from her with a frown. His deep voice is not unkind, only honest. "But I'm going to be watching the game. You can drink Margaritas with Hinata or something, okay? Or whatever it is you guys do."

_Sakura hates Margaritas you fucking idiot_, Sasuke scowls.

"Okay." She whispers, unable to summon the anger she so desperately wants to feel. Reduced to smoldering embers, her inner spirit flickers weakly before submitting to defeat.

The moment they leave, Sasuke slams his door shut, thirst long forgotten.

\- x -

Sitting in the stands of Naruto's football game, as a rush of cheers and whistles explode all around her when they score, all she can think about is Sasuke's lips on hers. The tenderness of his touch, the gentleness in his eyes, the silky feel of his dark locks between her fingers, the feel of him moving inside of her—

She hides her face against the biting wind of October, unable to stop the rush of tears spilling from her eyes and dampening the sleeves of her coat. And she hates it; she hates that their one night stand has flipped her whole world upside down, and not just because she's now a cheating tramp.

But because every time Naruto tries to have sex with her, she's nearly repulsed after comparing it with the way Sasuke fucked her senseless. Naruto's movements are disjointed and unrhythmic and so . . . _so_ not _him_. And it wasn't until Sasuke pounded her into his mattress with the force of a freight train that she realized just how terrible she and Naruto's sex life had become, among other things. Not to mention Sasuke's length is so much fuller, so much longer—so much better.

She would be lying if she said she doesn't touch herself long after Naruto falls asleep, shame rippling over her as she envisions him inside of her again—his bruising hands on her body, his hungry lips on hers, the lean tightness of his muscles like satin over steel, his tongue exploring and dancing over every inch between her thighs.

And God, his _kisses_—

_Why_, Sakura thinks, couldn't he at least have been terrible in bed? Or at least just fucking ordinary?

But of course, nothing about Sasuke Uchiha is ever just fucking ordinary. It has never been, even since they were kids.

He was always better—faster, stronger, smarter, cooler, _hotter_.

Always, he was extraordinary. Always, he is perfect.

All around her, students scream and shout with exhilarating school spirit but she hears nothing but those four words ringing in her ears.

_'Do you regret it?'_

She cries harder then. Because deep within, buried in the darkest most secretive place inside of her soul, she knows she doesn't regret it one single fucking bit.

She wants _more _of him.

No, she doesn't just want more; she wants _all _of him.

Sakura doesn't just want sex, she wants his kisses. She doesn't just want his touch, she wants his embrace. She doesn't just want his rasping breath in her ear, she wants his quiet laughter in the dark at 3AM when they're still awake when they aren't supposed to be, swapping embarrassing memories of each other like they've done for years.

And it's then, as she blinks through her blurry vision across the expanse of the football field where Naruto slams the ball onto the turf with a victory roar and a chest bump to his teammate—as she remembers pale fingers running through her hair, caressing along her spine, tilting her chin upward to meet the soft press of his lips, the gentleness in his dark eyes burning into hers—

She remembers all the times he held her when she cried over the smallest mistakes, over the pettiest arguments with Naruto, and even over her period cramps, of all things.

There has never been a time he hadn't offered his shoulder to lean on.

She remembers when he held her hair back as she wretched into the toilet New Years Eve when the tequila hit a little too hard and Naruto had gagged, refused to come near her.

She remembers when a box full of king-sized candy bars on Valentine's day appeared on her bed along with a card that read _'I got these as a gift from someone in my class, but I don't like sweets. -Sasuke'_

How coincidental, she had thought, that they all just so happened to be her favorites.

She remembers when her first hamster died and Naruto couldn't understand why she had been upset_. 'You can just get a new one,' _he had said seriously, unaware of how callous he sounded. But Sasuke—sweet, understanding, wonderful Sasuke—had driven to her house that evening, long after Naruto had gone. He had snuck in through her window, backpack heavy on his back. When his feet hit the carpet, he simply dropped the bag to floor and crawled in bed with her, held her as she cried.

It wasn't until after her tears dried that he began pulling things out of the bag—her favorite candy, movies, and a scrappy little paper that he unfolded to reveal a short eulogy and a picture of _Mr. Bugsy_, her deceased hamster.

_'Sorry about the . . . quality,'_ he had apologized quietly, if not a bit awkwardly. His cheekbones held a hint of color. _'I used a picture you sent me from a while ago and I . . . printed it from Itachi's computer.' _

She threw her arms around him then and wept harder; not from grief, but because his simple yet kind gesture made her heart swell with gratitude. Of course, having not understood why she began crying again, Sasuke had thought he only made things worse.

_'I'm sorry, I thought—'_

_'Thank you so much, Sasuke.'_ she whispered against the warm nape of his neck.

He slipped a movie in and they huddled under the blankets, sharing snacks and body warmth. And when he thought she had been too engrossed with the movie to notice, he reached for some trail mix before his arm carefully slid around her shoulders, tucking her head beneath his chin. Looking back, she ought to have noticed the way his heart raced against her ear.

Sasuke had stayed in bed with her until dawn, where he snuck out before her parents could discover a teenage boy snuggled up in their daughter's bed. She fell asleep with a smile on her face, the scent of him lingering on her sheets.

So many times, he had been there for her. Far too many times for it to be coincidental.

And in every memory Sakura has, it isn't Naruto that is right there by her side, but Sasuke.

Always, it has been Sasuke.

The realization strikes her like lightning; swift, unexpected, and damning.

_'I want you too, Sakura,' _his drunken confession drifts through her head, _'More than anything.'_

She wishes he were here, suddenly. At her side, where he's always been. Where he's meant to be. If he were sitting with her now, she knows he'd be draping his jacket over her shoulders against the sharp wind, a disapproving frown at her choice of such a thin coat.

_'You'll get sick.'_ He'd scold, melodramatic and irrational.

Always worried about her health.

_'Better?'_ He'd ask with that heart stopping half-smile when she'd hug his jacket around her shoulders and snuggle into its new warmth.

Always making sure she's comfortable, warm, and happy.

And it's here, sitting alone in the stands surrounded by hundreds of screaming fans, beneath the bright fluorescent lights shining down on the tears glossing her cheeks, that Sakura realizes she's in love with Sasuke Uchiha.

But it's also here, that Sakura realizes her life just got a hell of lot more complicated.

She inhales sharply, attempting to breathe—

Her phone buzzes in her coat pocket.

She pulls it out, sniffling down at the caller ID across her screen, only for her hand to stifle a relieved sob when she sees it's a call from the only person who has ever made her feel like she's enough.

**'Sasuke Uchiha'**

But her heart lurches with fear and before she can stop herself, fingers dart to decline the call. Eyes wide, regret flips her stomach when she realizes what she's just done as the ringer falls silent in her palm.

_You're a coward_, she whispers to herself, fingers tightening around the device. _A fucking coward. _

After a moment of tense silence, staring down at the phone, she waits for him to call again.

He doesn't.

More tears fall down her face and the longer she stares at the blank screen, the more panic begins to sprout within her. But just as she goes to slide it back into her pocket, it vibrates in her hand.

**_'1 new voicemail'_**

Her heart free falls. A sudden rush of exhilaration flits through her veins at those words across her screen; apprehension curling deep within her gut.

_Sasuke left me . . . a message?_

Standing up among the cheering crowd and not sparing a single glance at Naruto who's just scored another touchdown, she sneaks away from the football field and practically runs across the parking lot to her boyfriend's empty car. The sick anticipation swirling in her gut guides her quick feet across the asphalt, heart aching with every step.

The minute she jumps into the seat and closes the car door, she hits play on the message and presses the phone to her ear with trembling fingers.

At first, there is an agonizingly long silence. And just as disappointment rolls over her when she thinks he's left her a blank message—

_". . . Hey," _comes his hesitant murmur through the speaker, and Sakura can hear in that single syllable just how hard it had been for him to work up the courage to call.

"_I know we aren't . . . really talking right now. But I just wanted you to know that_—"

A pause.

"_That I . . . really am sorry, Sakura . . . For everything."_

An exhale.

_"I never meant to hurt you like this."_

It's this sentence that she suddenly notices a slight slur to his words that she hadn't noticed before. As if he's had a drink or two.

Or five.

_"And I know you probably still need some . . . time, but I think that if I don't say what I need to say right now, then I might not ever get the chance_ _again_."

Sakura's heart races, clutching the phone tighter against her ear as if it can bring him closer.

But the next words in her ear sends the world spiraling around her; two words carrying the weight of six years worth of regret for all their brevity.

"_I lov—"_

Her heart drops into her stomach.

Sasuke cuts himself off with a shuddering breath, and then corrects himself after a pause.

"_—I miss you_."

Another breath.

_". . . a lot._"

_I love you_, he was going to say.

Endless tears slide down her cheeks. A hand over her mouth represses her choking sob.

**I love you**.

Shoulders shaking and throat constricting, her heart shatters at the agony saturating his soft voice as he continues to murmur into her ear.

"_I'm starting to think that you hate me. But I hope one day . . . we can be friends again. And I know you sleep on the other side of my wall every night, but it feels like . . . " _His voice shakes, _"you're so fucking far away right now."_

His quiet voice breaks on the last word, as if a sudden wave of grief cracks him just on the other side of the phone.

There's a deafening silence filled only by his unsteady breathing. Sakura closes her eyes, chest twisting with regret of her own. Hot tears stream down her cheeks, rolling over the palm that's still firm over her mouth.

Muffled music and laughter in the background suddenly flows through the speaker, as if he's in a secluded room or bathroom at some bar and someone's just opened the door. He's intoxicated, she knows. But that changes nothing—if anything, it only makes her chest clench even tighter.

Because drunken words are sober thoughts.

_I love you._

A distant male voice calls his name from the background; whoever he's out drinking with.

_"But that's, uh—that's all I called to say. I have to go now, so. . . I'll let you go._" She hears his breath quicken. And then a single word so soft she almost doesn't catch it: "_Sorry_."

Click.

It was only minutes ago that Sakura realized she's in love with Sasuke Uchiha.

But it's here that she realizes, as the phone remains pressed against her ear long after his voice has disappeared—

That she has always been.

\- x -

.

.

.

She holds the phone against her ear with both hands and replays the voicemail for the third time, desperately clinging to every recorded breath, every shaky inhale, every quiet word.

_'I lov—'_

_—you, _she finishes for him.

_I love you, Sasuke. _

.

.

.

\- x -

Sasuke hadn't really intended to send her that voicemail; even if every word he spoke was the truth. The urge had been born of desperation when her favorite song had begun playing over the speakers of the bar he and Suigetsu had been occupying—where he had been attempting to loosen his thoughts of pink hair and laughing green eyes.

Nevertheless, nearly a week after he sends that drunken message, Sasuke notices a shift.

At first, he catches her glancing at him from the corner of her eye, almost nervously, as if she's expecting him to speak to her, or if she thinks _he_ expects her to speak to him.

After that vulnerable mess of a voicemail, he doesn't need to wonder why she's acting so strange. Despite this, to even his own surprise, Sasuke can't find it in himself to be embarrassed by his confession.

After all, it was—and _is_—the simple truth.

In fact, now that it's been said and done, regardless of the circumstances, he knows it should have been said much sooner. There are just some words that need to be heard, whether someone wants to hear them or not.

_Even if I couldn't properly admit to her what really counts. _

But . . .

Sasuke is painfully aware of the difficult position he's putting her in.

Sakura's in a committed relationship, and despite her betrayal, he knows his own advancement is only making this whole situation more complicated. And even though _'I miss you'_ might have been an innocent enough excuse to call her then, it has a very different meaning now.

When her glances begin to increase in frequency, it dawns on him that she's looking at him with something akin to curiosity—like she's never seen him before.

A million questions swim in her eyes with every flicker of green in his direction. Full of wonder, and dare he say _interest_.

Then, one day, with a seed of hope sprouting inside his heart, he catches her in the act; staring at him from across the table while the three of them are out for dinner.

They sit at Ichiraku's, a place they have been frequenting for years in favor of Naruto's insatiable love for ramen. Sasuke personally hates the place, but if Sakura goes, the Uchiha suddenly has a magical appetite for ramen.

Under the dim lamplight of their table, Naruto shovels lump after lump of noodles into his gullet, droplets of broth flying everywhere but his mouth.

Off to the side, Sakura absently sips her diet cola. Throughout the period of their unspoken rule of no-contact-whatsoever, he has never quite been able to stop himself from stealing glances at her. It wasn't like she was ever going to catch him when her green eyes were purposely fixed on anything but him, anyway.

But today, as Sasuke preforms his usual routine of sneaking a quick glance at her with the guise of taking a large drink of water, he tips his head back, obsidian orbs peeking over the rim of his glass to casually catch a glimpse of her—

Only for his eyes to meet hers.

He nearly chokes, stomach lurching with shock, because it's the first time in _so long_ that they have properly made solid eye contact.

Sasuke slowly lowers the glass to the tabletop, heart thumping at an alarming rate inside of his chest and palms sweating.

Because she doesn't look away.

Sakura holds his gaze, teeth nibbling her lower lip and the lightest dust of pink on her cheeks. He stares right back, almost disbelievingly, as he struggles to control his breathing right across from her.

He hears the light tapping of a foot under the table.

At the sound, his ears raise in temperature and his eyes dart away, all at once feeling like a lovesick fool. His stomach does backflips as he feels her eyes on his face. He clears his throat. When he chances another glance at her—

The whisper of a shy smile lifts her lips, cheeks now as bright as her hair when she finally lowers her gaze. Her smile widens.

And it's such a beautifully innocent moment that Sasuke melts, falling in love with her all over again.

\- x -

When they cross each other on campus, their eyes meet for a flicker of a moment before they glide right passed each other.

Like strangers with a secret.

Every time they walk by each other in the house, their eyes meet before they quickly drop, pretending as if their hearts aren't aching for one another.

As if they aren't suffering in the ringing silence that still stretches between them.

Every time they're in the same room together, no matter where they are, no matter who's around them—like opposite ends of a magnet, their eyes lock; a gaping expanse between them filled with everything left unsaid.

And it hurts them so badly, knowing that they are always so close and yet so far; an invisible thread tugs taut between their hearts each time one of them walks out of the room.

Sasuke can't help but wonder, with no small amount of fear, if she's ever going to speak to him again. It's somewhat of an irrational thought, considering their deeply rooted friendship, but it's a terrifying idea all the same. More often than not does it keep him stirring in his bed all through the night.

Already he has loved her from a distance for so long, but it had been a tolerable distance. A distance in which he still stood somewhat of a chance.

This distance, however, is nothing of the sort.

Whereas before he could spend the day with her and imagine she was his, where he could imagine every tinkling laugh and bright smile was for him and only him. Before, he could still touch her, hug her, _talk_ to her.

Where she had once been only a step away from him, now she is a thousand.

\- x -

On the first of November, Naruto gets into an accident.

The promise of winter has frozen the roads solid and black ice permeates the asphalt; a hazard unseen by distracted cerulean eyes. His car tires screech as he slides into an intersection and an oncoming SUV smashes into the driver's side.

Paramedics rush him to the ER fifteen minutes later.

In the hospital, Sakura steps into the hallway, clipboard in hand as she finishes checking off the vitals of her last patient of the evening when the double doors down the corridor burst open, four paramedics carting in a bloody man on a stretcher.

A bloody man with rugged tan skin and red-matted blond hair.

The clipboard clatters to the floor.

"_Naruto_!" Sakura screams.

She's at his side in seconds, sprinting along with the paramedics that wheel him at remarkable speed to the ER.

The next twenty minutes are a blur of fluorescent lights, vivid red blood, swift working hands, and the resounding pulse of the ECG monitor.

"You shouldn't be in here, Sakura." A woman admonishes behind a surgical mask, hazel eyes never looking up as her deft fingers thread the last stitch through tan skin. "You're an intern."

Sakura ignores this as she adds more morphine to her boyfriend's IV, glassy eyes flicking to the heart monitor every three seconds as if she expects him to flatline at any moment.

"He's going to be okay." Tsunade assures her pupil, a foreign touch of pity beneath her stern voice.

\- x -

Sasuke shoves through the hospital room at 2AM, dark hair windblown and obsidian eyes wild with worry, disoriented from having just been woken up from a jarring phone call and racing through every red light to get to the hospital.

He wears nothing but a dark navy hoodie over wrinkled denim; clearly having thrown on the first thing he saw.

When he sees Naruto resting peacefully on the hospital bed, bandaged but whole, his heaving chest deflates with a relieved exhale. He clambers to his bedside, dropping into the chair and sinking into the worn cushion, burying his face in his hands.

"Fuck." He whispers into his palms, heart thrashing with the tapering anxiety that his best friend could have just been killed.

Clad in her nurse's uniform long after her shift has ended, Sakura sits on the other side of the bed, swollen eyes downcast and a hand intertwined with her boyfriend's scathed one.

The ECG monitor blips steadily in the silence between them.

He hears her inhale.

"Distal radial fracture, mild concussion, whiplash, and twenty-six stitches."

Sasuke's head snaps up, blinking in disbelief at the first words she's uttered to him in two and a half months.

"S—"

"He's going to be okay." She murmurs softly, as if she's talking to herself and not the man just across the bed.

He stares at her for a moment. Then, his obsidian orbs hesitantly drift to his friend's face; mottled with bruises, a freshly stitched gash across his forehead, and split lip.

"What happened?" Sasuke breathes, eyes stuck on the nasty black splotch on Naruto's cheekbone before he takes note of his right arm in a sling.

The sight is severely off-putting.

"He slid into an intersection." Is all she has to say, moving to brush blond locks out of his bruised face.

There's a comprehensive silence in which the situation slowly sinks in. Sasuke shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"I was really scared, but he's going to be fine." She promises, eyes soft as she studies her unconscious boyfriend. "He's just a little beat up, that's all. He should be healed up in about a month or two—nothing ramen won't fix."

She laughs dryly, eyes never straying from Naruto's face.

Sasuke nods in response, glancing at her before his shoulders slacken. With his relief comes a wave of weariness, the lost sleep he had swiftly abandoned creeping up on him.

He and Sakura sit together in somewhat of a bearable silence for the next two hours.

In the dim white room, Sakura consistently checks Naruto's vitals and Sasuke fights his exhaustion, heavy lids threatening to shut as he slumps in his seat, arms crossed. He's just beginning to fall asleep, head nodding off, when a quiet voice finally breaks the silence.

"Why?"

Dark lashes flutter open, obsidian eyes dazed. He hums in question, not quite awake.

"Why did we do that, Sasuke?"

The serious question has him blinking away his sleep immediately. He sits upright in the chair, purposely rubbing at his eyes to hide his panic.

"Do what?" He asks casually, as if he doesn't think about what they've done every second of every day. When there's no immediate response, his stomach twists in knots and he swallows, hesitantly looking up at the woman who haunts his every waking thought.

Across the bed, swollen red-rimmed eyes stare back at him.

Breath hitching, he is suddenly stricken by her disheveled beauty; taken completely off guard by how strangely attractive she looks in this moment.

Her pink ponytail, which he assumes was once neat and professional at the beginning of her shift, is loose and careless at the back of her head, several choppy strands poking every which way. The whites of her eyes are bloodshot and weary, making her sea-foam irises almost incandescent. The almond shape of her eyes make her appear almost feline in nature, and her long lashes are heavy with fatigue.

The primal urge to kiss her has his fingers twitching. His pants suddenly feel uncomfortably tight.

To his surprise, however, there's no anger in those radiant eyes. No betrayal, sadness, nor anguish in her glistening orbs like he'd been afraid he'd find the moment he looked up.

Instead, he finds something so much worse.

Emptiness.

The ECG monitor continues to blip evenly, green line jumping in time with Naruto's sleeping heartbeat.

Sasuke and Sakura simply stare at one another from across the bed.

"You still haven't told him."

It isn't a question.

At this, a pang of guilt flashes across her eyes before she blinks it away. She looks to her sleeping boyfriend, expression tight and lips tugging downward. She doesn't answer.

"Sakura . . ." he frowns, voice firm with disapproval. When he had said 'not yet', he hadn't meant _never_.

She winces, closing her eyes before she whispers: "I can't!"

". . . Then _don't_."

Sakura's bright eyes snap to his, confused. "What?"

"We won't tell him."

"Sasuke—"

"Do you regret it?" He repeats that same question, unable to pass up another chance at seeing the truth. Because now that she's here with him, finally speaking to him after weeks of endless silent torture, he can't waste another opportunity to witness the reality for himself.

He needs to know _now_, before she has the chance to turn her back on him again.

Sakura suddenly looks terrified; eyes wide and lips parted as if trained to deny such a question. Then, her eyebrows slightly furrow with a hint of anger (and worry) as her eyes flick to Naruto before returning to him. "This—this is _really_ not the time to—"

Sasuke's heart races at her reaction, or rather, her purposeful dodge. "Just answer the question, Sakura."

He's cornered her; left her with nowhere else to run.

But her next plea takes him off guard.

"_Please, stop_." She whispers unexpectedly. Eyes trembling with unshed tears and lips quivering, she glances at Naruto's sleeping form. "Why are you doing this . . . ?"

The vulnerable heartbreak in her eyes makes him falter.

He isn't trying to hurt her.

"What are you doing, Sasuke?" Voice taut with torment, she looks at him again, the expression on her face a genuine plea for mercy.

_Please, stop. _

He swallows against his tightening throat, confusion worrying his brow. What does she _mean_ what is he doing? All he wants is the truth. An explanation. Anything to dampen the agony that runs rampant through his veins.

Sakura shakes her head in exasperation, "It was just a mistake—we both made a mistake—"

"No." He denies automatically, unable to help himself; unable to be anything except honest. For a second, his blunt refutation surprises even himself, but he continues without hitch. "It was not."

Green eyes widen before she guiltily looks away from him, attempting to hide the truth he now knows for absolute sure is on her face.

Feeling brave, he blurts a question that's been plaguing his mind for years now.

"Why are you with him?"

An icy shock visibly flashes over her side profile before she snaps her head to gape at his audacity. "S-_Sasuke—!_"

"Why are you with him, Sakura?" He insists a little more firmly, heart thundering within his chest.

It's fucked up, he thinks. So incredibly unfair that she's still holding on to Naruto as if her tongue hasn't been in _his_ mouth, around _his_ length. As if _he_ hasn't been inside of her, as if she didn't look at him with just as much love in her eyes as burns within his.

And maybe he's just selfish; maybe he's an asshole for thinking such rash thoughts. But nothing stands out more to him than the dullness in her eyes whenever she's with that idiot compared to the pure cheer in her eyes when she's with him.

Nothing matters to him more than her happiness.

"_Because I fucking love him!_" She finally shouts. Sasuke's heart cracks right down the middle.

He abruptly stands from his chair and makes a swift beeline for the door—

But his trembling hand hovers over the handle, hesitating.

Sasuke shoots a look over his shoulder then, glaring at her in a way he hasn't done since they were twelve years old.

Her eyes widen.

"You know, Sakura." He whispers icily, eyes narrowed in an attempt to hide the pain behind them. "I've known you for a very long time. Out of the three of us, you've always been the most intelligent. You've always been good at choosing the right words. You've always been the best at keeping secrets." He inhales shakily, "But you've always been a terrible fucking liar."

Sasuke slips out without another word.

\- x -

The couch in the waiting room is far more uncomfortable than he'd like to admit, but he decides it's what he deserves.

The moment he had shut that door behind him, regret sank its familiar claws into his heart. Sickened with guilt, he stood outside the threshold a solid five minutes after he'd spat those last words, debating whether or not he should go back in and apologize.

But it wasn't like he could turn back around after what he'd just said.

It just wasn't that simple; but nothing, he's coming to realize, has ever been simple between them.

And as he sits here, slouched over the couch in the empty waiting room as a fluorescent light flickers above him, he feels stupid. Like a true fucking idiot.

Because_ of course_ she loves Naruto.

She's always loved Naruto. He's her fucking _boyfriend_ of six years. It goes without saying, without doubt.

And no amount of one-night-stands is going to magically change that.

Even if he so selfishly hoped that it did.

Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, feeling thoroughly atrocious. Because what he said was not only impulsively childish—but because he knows she's now crying at Naruto's bedside . . .

_Because of me_, he resigns with crippling shame, shrinking further into the cushions. Closing his eyes, he yanks his hood over his face and crosses his arms on the armrest. Burying his head in the crook of his arms, he wants nothing more than to just disappear.

He suddenly feels sixteen and heartbroken all over again, forced to watch her love Naruto while he loved her more than the idiot ever could, even from a distance.

Sasuke feels childish, so stupidly immature with his petty anger.

But it's so difficult not to be upset when she's clearly so fucking _unhappy_ with him.

She shouldn't be crying every other day. She shouldn't have to remind Naruto to consider her feelings. Shouldn't have to constantly remind him of the things she likes and dislikes; shouldn't have to put in 100% while he barely spares 5%.

Especially after _six_ years.

They started out happy, he'll admit. And in that window of time, despite his random bouts of repressed jealousy, Sasuke could accept that she would never be his, just so as long as she was smiling.

Honestly, she could be with _anyone_ as long as she is happy.

_I just want the fucking best for her_, he thinks as he sinks even deeper into the cushions and burrows further into his crossed arms.

_So why do I feel like the villain? _

\- x -

The bruises on Naruto's face are as black as the ones on her heart. Sakura buries her face in her arms as she lays her head down at his bedside—as if she can hide her shame and self-loathing from the unconscious man before her.

Sakura doesn't deserve to be here, she knows, especially after what she's done behind his back.

Naruto's parents are on their way from across the country, grief-stricken by the news of their only son almost losing his life.

She's texted all of his close friends whom should be pushing though the door any minute.

And Sakura should feel relieved.

She should feel something other than the vacuum space of a gaping hole deep inside of her, where any semblance of relief is sucked up and swallowed.

Any morsel of comfort had been whisked away on the coattails of Sasuke's last words as he slipped out the door an hour earlier.

_'You've always been a terrible fucking liar.'_

Despite the overwhelming urge, she doesn't cry. Green eyes remain empty behind heavy lids, unfeeling. She wants to be angry, _livid_ at him for saying such a terrible thing, especially considering the overwhelming state she's already in and the inappropriateness of it all.

But the anger she yearns to feel is like sand through her fingers; shallow, fleeting, and gone with the passing evanescence of every breath she takes.

She waits and waits for the fury to sink in, but it never comes.

_Why can't I ever stay mad at him?_

Sakura finally sits up, eyes sloped with fatigue and heart heavy with the mess of reality that her life has become.

Naruto lays as still as a rock, peacefully unaware of his girlfriend's treachery.

"I'm sorry." She whispers pathetically to his sleeping form. "I'll never expect you to forgive me, but just know . . . that I—"

The door bursts open and before Sakura can properly blink away her grief, a blur of indigo hair flashes by her vision, pale arms snaking around Naruto's neck.

"N-Naruto!" The girl rasps, sparkling tears rushing down her ivory cheeks like waterfalls.

Completely startled, for a moment, Sakura can only sit there in stunned silence as she watches Hinata weep over her boyfriend's unmoving form.

In the doorway, the rest of his friends keep their respectful distance, as if Naruto and _Hinata_ need some sort of privacy.

A pang of irrational jealousy jolts Sakura from her impolite staring.

_Get Well Soon_ balloons gently float around them, flowers in hand.

None of them spare her a single glance.

And as they slowly make their way to his bedside and hover around him, Sakura suddenly feels out of place.

Like she doesn't belong in this picture: Hinata's terrible sobs, Kiba's downcast eyes, Shikamaru's deep frown, Gaara's glassy mint orbs, Chouji's averted gaze, Neji's tense shoulders.

Blinking away fresh tears, Sakura stares up at all of them with wide eyes, feeling as if she's watching from someplace afar. A scene she was never meant to be apart of. A world she shouldn't be in.

A place she doesn't belong.

As she looks at all of these people before her, worried out of their mind and torn by their friend's comatose state, she wonders why she feels as if she's an intruder.

And when Naruto's cerulean eyes blink awake, the moment he sees Hinata's tear-stricken face before him, he breaks out into the biggest beam Sakura thinks she's ever seen.

Naruto glances Sakura's way once.

Once.

Then he's pulling Hinata onto his chest, howling when she accidentally bumps his broken arm.

When the Hyuuga girl continues to cry as Naruto gently wipes away her tears with a bizarre gentleness he's only ever used with _her_—

Sakura tries to blink back her shock. Her fingers tremble in her lap. A strange knot twists in her stomach at the way Hinata and Naruto are looking at each other; as if there's nobody else in the room but the two of them. There's something alive between them, burning between their locked eyes.

Something Sakura and Naruto will never have.

But this is not what scares her.

The scene is sickeningly familiar. So familiar, in fact, that Sakura has trouble breathing. And it isn't until their eyes soften with something that has Sakura's throat burning with bile that she realizes exactly what it is.

Everything clicks.

It's exactly how she and Sasuke used to look at each other every single day. Before she turned her back on him. Before she ran away from her own mistake. Before she ruined everything between them, blaming him because it was easier than admitting she fucked up. She blindsided him with her silence and in return he was forced to suffer in the wake of her self-hatred. Her selfishness in convincing herself that it was not her fault, and that Sasuke would be okay shouldering the blame. But he isn't okay.

None of this is okay.

The void in her chest expands until it feels as if she is about to be swallowed whole by her regret.

But now, she knows.

Sakura slowly rises from her chair.

Without a word, she slips out of the hospital room unnoticed. Hinata's soft cries echo behind her.

In the waiting room she finds Sasuke sleeping on the couch with his head down on the armrest, hood pulled over his messy dark locks.

_It was never a mistake. _

She strides right over to him and without hesitation, leans down and pulls him upward, ignoring the way his eyes flutter open in disoriented confusion as she slides right into his lap.

"Sak—?"

Her lips are on his before he can even finish her name, hands burrowing into his silky locks and pushing his hood back to cradle his head, knees straddling either side of his warm thighs.

She moves her lips against his with every last remaining shred of energy she has, the cracked half of her heart snapping to his like the resonating click of a magnet.

And all at once, just like that, they are whole again.

_It was never a mistake._

His hands glide into her hair without pause, fingers fumbling with her loose ponytail before he manages to unleash her locks. Short rosy hair spills around her shoulders in jagged waves and Sasuke doesn't waste a moment to bury his fingers in them, pulling and tugging as he smashes his lips against hers with an urgency that suggests he needs her air to breathe.

Their stomachs explode with fireworks, bursting along the seams of every nerve and toes tingling with mind-blowing euphoria.

Tongues sliding recklessly into each other's mouth, chests heaving, hearts skyrocketing into overdrive, they melt into one tangled mess of teeth, lips, tongue, and sharp inhales between every small window of breath before they collide once more.

"I'm so sorry." She whispers against his lips. Tears roll down her cheeks and into their mouths.

Sasuke only kisses her harder.

Neither of them care that they are in a public hospital waiting room, or that her boyfriend and his best friend lay injured down the hall. Neither of them care that at any point in time, one of their friends could walk in on them and see Sasuke and Sakura's deceit for themselves.

Neither of them take heed of the world around them as it shrinks and shrinks until they are the only ones left existing.

There is no fear. No agony. No pain.

No regret.

Just two best friends lip locked and unequivocally in love.

And in each other's arms, they are right where they're supposed to be.

Not Naruto and Sakura.

Not Sakura and Naruto.

Sasuke and Sakura.

It has a ring to it, he thinks.

\- x -

They leave the hospital at 6AM without telling anyone.

They silently hold hands on the car ride home as the raging storm brews between them both, suppressed longing and need ready to burst forth at any given second. Their knees bounce impatiently. His free hand taps on the steering wheel as their race home is interrupted by continuous downtown traffic lights.

The car ride is a special kind of hell.

Sasuke squeezes her hand, glancing at her from the corner of his eye as his heart rapid fires; as if checking to make sure she isn't a figment of his imagination. That she is real. That _this_ is real.

Sakura watches him openly, sea-foam eyes large and luminous with desire, hair messy and disheveled by his own hands. His eyes flick to her clenching thighs, swallowing as he returns his gaze to the road ahead. He attempts to suppress the obnoxious strain against his jeans by carefully adjusting the thick bar of his erection.

The anticipation between them is so overwhelming it's almost tangible.

Sakura feels her lower stomach simmering with fierce need, the inner walls of her core pulsing with the distant memory of him inside her. The wet pool of her arousal soaks her panties, thighs squirming as she literally aches for the man next to her.

Sasuke is in his own world of torment. Every time he is forced to stop the car, something feral inside of him flares with unbearable impatience as his noticeably hard cock throbs with urgency.

At the fifth stop light—unable to take this suffering any longer—Sasuke reaches over and yanks her to his mouth, one hand in her hair and the other at her throat. He thumbs the hollow of her skin as she moans against his lips. He wrenches her head to the side by her pink locks, lips trailing along the stretch of her throat as she whimpers his name. His other hand slowly falls to her breast where he gives a hard squeeze, relishing the way her body trembles at his touch.

Then, his fingers trail down her shuddering body, lower and lower until—

A car horn startles them from their impromptu coupling and, with a death glare from the Uchiha and a middle finger from Sakura at the car behind them, Sasuke debates whether or not he should just take her right here at this green light.

The small nervous giggle that falls from her lips forces a smirk to his own as he presses the car forward, fingers immediately finding hers again as if to secure her presence beside him. Sasuke squeezes her fingers. Sakura squeezes right back.

Nearly five minutes away from the house, Sakura loses her patience with a sudden a burst of courage.

Sasuke hears the teeth of his zipper being pulled down before he realizes what she's doing. And by the time he does, she's already leaning over his lap, hands fumbling as she works to free him from his boxers.

A surprised exhale escapes him when the uncomfortable pressure of the denim no longer restrains him and her palms envelope his full naked erection.

With her messy pink hair in front of his chest, he reaches up to massage her scalp, shuddering when he feels her warm breath puff against the crown of his exposed cock.

He tries to keep his eyes focused on the road ahead, one hand tight on the steering wheel while the other plays in her hair.

Sasuke shivers when her thumb gently smears the gathered precum over the tip. She leans in, slowly swirling the clear liquid around him and his stomach jumps when the tip of her tongue dips unexpectedly into his slit.

The soothing hand in her hair quickly turns into a tight fist.

"Impatient?" His attempt at sounding smooth merely comes out as a breathless pant as he glances down at the back of her head.

A hot mouth swallows him in response and it takes every last ounce of his concentration to stay focused on the road before them.

Dark eyebrows furrow with a wince and a small noise escapes his throat when she sucks him hard, her other hand twisting at his base as she pumps him vigorously into her mouth.

Sasuke swallows as he tries to keep his attention ahead, but her wet mouth working him is enough to make his legs twitch beneath the steering wheel. Bucking his hips upward, he tries to push deeper into her mouth, chasing his blissful completion. But Sakura places two strong hands on his thighs, keeping him solidly in place. Teasing him.

_We're almost home_, his mind pants in relief, unsure of how much longer he can hold off.

A loud guttural moan falls from his mouth when she glides him all the way to the back of her throat.

His head thumps back against the headrest just as he pulls into the driveway.

Sasuke drops his hands from the steering wheel to properly grip her bobbing head, groaning when she doesn't stop.

"We're here," he rasps even as she twirls her tongue around him. Closing his eyes, he lets his hands fall to his sides as she only takes him deeper in response, sighing when her cheeks suction tightly around him as she draws back.

She swallows him once more and the building knot within him threatens to burst, muscles tense with his impending release. When she still doesn't stop, he panics when his body tenses further, legs quivering as the coil nearly snaps. He grabs at her hair. "I'm about to come, Sakura—!"

Sasuke's body visibly slackens when she releases him without warning. His head drops back against the headrest with a soft moan as he pants fervently, cock tingling from the aftermath and release quickly retreating.

Sakura sits up, wiping the back of her sloppy mouth with a coy smile, relishing in the haze of his heavy-lidded eyes and the swift rise and fall of his broad chest.

The rich dawn sunlight spills into his car, drenching Sakura in an ethereal buttery glow. The mischief glittering in her eyes steals his breath away. Her pupils dilate.

Sasuke finds himself speechless as they stare at each other in the compressed silence of the car. His heartbeat pulses in his throat.

"I—" he begins, but his confession is silenced by hungry lips on his.

They practically sprint into the apartment hand-in-hand, door flying open just like the first night they took each other. The door ricochets off the wall before they slam it shut and Sakura is pinned up against the wooden slab before she can even blink.

Hot lips travel everywhere on her exposed skin; her chest, her collarbones, her throat, her jaw, and end their journey on her waiting mouth, tongue dipping between her lips, tasting every last drop of her essence.

They kick off their shoes as Sakura's fingers fumble with the waistband of his jeans, but since they're already halfway undone from their activities in his car, she is able to yank them down without much effort. His jeans drop to his ankles, leaving his lower body in only thin boxers and his full erection tenting the fabric.

With Sasuke's lips still devouring hers and her fingers clawing in his hair, he tugs her pencil skirt until it pools around her ankles, exposing panties that are begging to be torn off.

His fingers dart to her core, shoving her panties to the side and inhaling sharply when he feels just how needy she is. Sakura moans when his cold fingers caress her sticky warmth.

The fire between them roars.

_She's so fucking wet, _he realizes with a ripple of blissful surprise. She's so wet that he can hear the soft squelch of his fingers against her hot flesh.

He sighs between open-mouthed kisses, feeling his arousal tighten tenfold at the discovery_._ He lets his fingers glide up and down her folds, shivering at the feel of her wetness coating every digit and allowing his ego to bloom at the fact that she's this turned on by _him_.

If her actions alone don't prove how much she wants him, the molten pool between her thighs certainly does.

She whimpers beneath him, body quivering with every teasing run of his fingers up and down her sex. When he pushes two fingers firm against her clit, she gasps. Sasuke smirks against her lips. Her thighs attempt to clench around his wrist, an involuntary response to her heightened sensitivity. Sasuke rubs her clit harder, circling the wet mound until she desperately grabs at his forearm.

Sakura draws back to look up at him.

The wanton desire on her face makes him reach down and grab his own need, giving himself a few relieving tugs through the fabric with his free hand. He's so hard it hurts.

"I need you, Sasuke." She whispers, pupils dilated against bright emerald orbs. Holding her hungry gaze, his other hand continues its teasing dance between her thighs.

And this time, there is no veil of alcohol obscuring reality.

They are stone cold sober and as sane as they've ever been.

There is no regret awaiting them beyond the horizon, no guilt weighing on their hearts, nothing holding them back.

This is _real_.

She hooks her fingers around his boxers and lets them fall to the floor.

He strips her of her sticky panties.

Pressing her flush against the door, he lets his bare member glide between her thighs, slowly thrusting his hips to slip his cock horizontally between her wet folds. A quiet sigh escapes him when her heat slides around the sensitive head of his length.

Sasuke leans back just enough to watch the pleasure swim through her heavy lidded eyes as he pushes his hips forward, gliding his cock along her sweet spot so agonizingly slow that Sakura's fingernails dig into his forearms.

Encouraged, he leans down to whisper in her ear. _"Does that feel good?"_

She nods furiously, fingernails digging even deeper into his skin when he slowly, _ever so slowly_, slides back out.

Sakura retaliates by jutting her hips forward, forcing his length between her folds to rub her aching bud once more. A small cry escapes her, thighs tensing around his cock. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, clearly fighting to buck her hips like mad against him.

Sasuke smirks, purposely drawing back just enough to allow his slathered tip to touch the outside of her petals. He whispers into her ear once more, ego overflowing and confidence through the roof. "What do you want, Sakura?"

Without warning, she grabs a fistful of his hair and angles her head until her lips whisper against his, "_You_."

She doesn't want him to tease her anymore, she needs him _inside_ of her.

Faces merely a centimeter apart, eyes intensely locked, she begs him.

"_Please_."

Sasuke's heart soars, the desperation in her eyes and the longing in her voice forcing fireworks to explode within him.

He taps his lips against hers before he gently slides himself from the petals of her core, shivering when the cool air hits his wet cock.

They only make it as far as the kitchen before his fingers are fumbling between her thighs again, physically unable to stop himself from touching her. Her perfect little body spurs Sasuke's ravenous appetite. His other hand sneaks behind her, squeezing her ass before smacking it so hard that Sakura yelps in surprise.

"Sasuke!" She admonishes as if she can't believe he just did that, but the playful glint in her eye has Sasuke biting back a mischievous smirk.

Sakura hums in excitement as he lays her flat backed on the edge of the kitchen table, but her eyebrows raise in confusion when he drops to his knees. He forcefully spreads her legs.

With her so wantonly exposed to his hungry eyes, he wastes no time in plunging his middle and ring finger inside of her, scissoring his way to that sweet spot he _knows_ is there.

And when he curls his fingers upwards, she cries out, back arching as he pumps his digits inside of her like a piston, wanting to feel every inch of her spasming walls as they clench around him. He pushes up inside of her as hard as he can, dark eyes gleaming with approval when her legs flail on either side of his head.

"Sasuke!" She screams when he drives his fingers into her faster, thighs attempting to close around his unrelenting hand. And when clear liquid begins to spurt from her core, he dips his head in to lick from his fingers upward, wanting nothing more than to make her feel like she's just reached the gates of heaven and beyond.

_She deserves to feel like this_, he thinks, pride swelling with every keening cry, **_I_**_ deserve to make her feel like this_.

_I want to _**_always_**_ make her feel like this. _

He laps at her warmth, fingers still working deep inside her, thrusting upwards with a force that would otherwise be painful if the rough patch he's abusing on the roof of her passage wasn't the pinnacle of her ecstasy. The moment he sucks her sensitive mound between his lips, he is rewarded by another flail of her legs and a throaty cry.

"A—Ah!" Her thighs press on either side of his head and he knows by the increasing quiver of them that she's nearing the edge of an explosive climax.

Without warning he retracts from her core, relishing in her whine at the loss.

He rises to his full height to take in the sweet sight of her explicit form under his salacious gaze; huffing furiously, cheeks flushed, rosy hair fanned against the cherrywood table, creamy legs spread, and her glistening pink core completely exposed.

"Sasuke," she breathes when he just stands there, unable to bear his pause. "Don't stop."

He leans down and tugs her by the ankles, sliding her off the edge of the table until her feet touch the floor. The moment she sits up, he bends over to hook one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, hoisting her small frame up into his arms.

Sakura throws her arms around his neck with a delighted laugh. "Where are we going?"

As much as he's dying to fuck her on his kitchen table like an animal, Sasuke decides to do things right this time around.

Sasuke leans down until their noses brush, smirking against her lips as he whispers: "Bedroom."

And then he kisses her so softly that Sakura simply melts in his embrace.

\- x -

Completely naked, he hovers over her, palms splayed on either side of her head.

Ankles crossed behind his back, completely naked beneath him, her arms wrap around his neck.

Hearts racing in sync, they stare back at each other in the golden sunrise of his bedroom, nearly shaking in anticipation.

Sasuke is far more nervous than he had expected to be—it's only now that he hovers inches away from her wet core that he understands just how much his confidence fluctuates under the influence.

And as he stares down at her now, stomach fluttering and chest heaving, he realizes how unprepared he is for something so cataclysmically life changing.

Sweet innocent Sakura, legs spread, soaking wet, and waiting for him to fill her up; he has trouble wrapping his head around it.

Years ago, all he had was her silly pictures she'd send him and a vivid imagination. Never, in all his wildest dreams, did he ever think he would finally have her in his arms.

Not a drunken escapade, but a sober reconciliation of his love.

_I love you, Sakura._ He wants to say, but his tongue refuses to move.

"Are you okay?" Warm palms cup his face, green orbs shimmering with concern.

He nods silently, unsure how to explain to her the magnitude of this moment. Unsure how to properly tell her that he loves her without getting cold feet.

_Just say it_, he urges himself.

He lightly startles when her fingers wrap around his girth between them, guiding his tip to her tight opening.

Sasuke's whole body tenses at the feeling, cock throbbing with anticipation.

"Relax," She says softly, giving his length a few encouraging pumps.

Her fingers firm around him is a reminder that she wants this just as much as he does. She presses a few more kisses to his lips until he's lost in her sweet comfort, slowly relaxing as she continues to pump him in her hand.

He feels the heat between her thighs before he's even inside her and he feels himself grow harder in her grip. The delicious ache between his legs is torture of the most divine degree.

Taking a deep breath, he holds her gaze as he finally begins to move. Slowly, he pushes himself into her tight passage, watching her expression with keen eyes and exhaling against her lips when the scalding heat of her walls begin to part around him.

With one single thrust, he pushes himself the rest of the way deep inside of her, pressing his hips flush against hers. She gasps, eyes flashing with surprise at the fullness she's missed after two terrible months. Arms wrapped tightly around him, her fingernails dig into his naked shoulder blades.

Sasuke himself inhales sharply, closing his eyes to reign control of the excruciating urge to ram his hips into hers repeatedly.

He reopens his eyes to meet her cloudy orbs, one side of his lips quirking at the way she's completely at loss for breath.

_Clearly, I'm not the only one overwhelmed._

He takes a quick mental snapshot, determined to savor this moment; their naked bodies flush against one another, him buried to the hilt inside of her, nails clawing into his skin, the rush of their pulse, eyes locked.

He's never experienced anything so perfect; so passionate yet fragile, as if this moment is intimately sacred.

"I love you." Sakura whispers bravely, glassy eyes alight with awe as she stares up at him.

Sasuke's breath hitches, eyes stinging with a rushing tidal wave of emotion. It hits him like a bullet to the chest. The weight of those three words he's longed to hear for so long in tandem with the vulnerable—but so undeniably _real_—love glimmering in her eyes, cracks something within him.

Blinking away the fog in his eyes, his lips smash against hers, pulling out of her only to plunge back in with a primal hunger he suddenly can't control. Her slender body jolts beneath him with the force, bed frame smacking the wall.

Sakura moans sweetly into his mouth, holding tightly onto him as he snaps his hips against hers once more, filling every inch of her with his thickness and every hole in her heart with his physical display of affection. She bucks her pelvis upwards to meet his thrusts halfway, fingers still clawing down his slick skin.

"Yes," She breathes against his lips, eyes locked as they merge together repeatedly, bodies lurching in harmonizing sync. Threading her fingers in his hair, she pulls him to her chest, burying his face into her neck and cradling his head as she whispers his name.

She feels his shuddering breath and baritone hums of ecstasy against her throat as he drives into her with reckless abandon. When his pace increases even further, her legs tighten around his body, fingers twisting in his silky locks as she throws her head back and holds on.

He pounds into her relentlessly, skin smacking against hers so hard she'd be surprised if the neighbors didn't hear it. The bed lurches back and forth against the floor. His cock drives so deep inside her that any coherence she had minutes ago is obliterated by his bucking hips. He bottoms out inside her every single time, the broad head of his cock hitting the wall of her cervix mercilessly.

Before it's even over she knows it's the best sex she's ever had.

Without warning, she swiftly flips them over, sinking down on his cock with a force that rips a sharp inhale from his lungs.

A sly smirk spreads across her lips at his reaction.

He curses when she drops down on his erect length again, palms splayed flat on his muscled abdomen as she wantonly rides him, thighs straddling either side of his hips.

Sakura uses the press of her palms against his body as leverage to bounce her hips, filling herself as she pleases with his thickness. The bed squeaks in protest beneath them.

Sasuke grabs either side of her waist as if his life depends on it, teeth clenching as she shamelessly rides him. Her breasts bounce in time with her fierce hops and pink strands of hair stick to the slick sheen of sweat on her face.

A long string of moans escape her lips, clenching her inner walls around his cock and quickening her pace when the look on Sasuke's face beneath her is akin to someone who's just injected pure dopamine into their veins. He then looks as if he's struggling to control his expression, eyebrows knitting with concentration and dark eyes unable to remain focused.

And as his chest rises and falls even faster, face beginning to contort with the telltale signs of an orgasm, she knows he's about to come—hard.

Her hips bounce against his as fast as she can manage, desperation quickening her pace as her own orgasm hurdles towards her. She wants to make him come as hard as he made her once before, if not harder, and so she clenches her inner muscles repeatedly until Sasuke is practically writhing.

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hips, head thrown back with a shout when his climax hits him like lightning, pelvis jabbing against hers as his cock pulses with release, emptying himself completely inside her. She watches his body twitch beneath her as she continues to ride him, feels the spasm of his hard abdominal muscles beneath her palms.

Vulnerability like she's never quite seen before flashes across his face as his climax carries on. And although it only lasts maybe five whole seconds, she knows it must feel like days of endless rapture for him. He groans loudly before it tapers off into a stuttering gasp, fingers still buried in her flesh and expression strained.

"Oh—!"

Sakura's own orgasm hits then, sending her mind spiraling through the roof. Head thrown back, she releases a keening cry that echoes through the empty house. Sasuke immediately sits up, wrapping his arms around her as she rides out her climax, holding her as if he, too, transcends to the holy place she has just gone.

Intimacy like he's never known before grips his heart; a strange thrill that is both exhilarating and serene. Like jumping off a cliff before realizing you have wings to fly. Or shooting up a rollercoaster until you're at the very top, that split second of a moment when you're the highest you'll ever be, with nothing but miles of horizon before you, just before you plunge—

One hand digs into the soft flesh of her upper back as the other cups her ass, guiding her hips as she continues to ride him. Thrusting his hips upward to meet her every hop, Sakura spasms in his embrace, sweat slick on their bodies and heat searing between them like the sweet kiss of the sun.

Sasuke sucks the junction between her shoulder and neck, licking at her racing pulse and closing his eyes to the symphony of her stuttering moans, knowing that if there were ever a moment he wished to never forget; it would be this.

When Sakura finally falls slack in his arms, he is swift to catch her as she collapses into him. Her head drops onto his shoulder. Still buried inside her, Sasuke kisses her cheek and a slight dimple gives away the smile she's trying to hide as she burrows beneath his jaw, arms sliding around his neck.

Together, they lay naked in bed for the rest of the entire day, touching and whispering until the promise of dusk stretches through his window. And even then, they carry on, unable to keep their hands away from each other; unable to fathom why they hadn't done this sooner.

\- x -

At 8PM, Sasuke retracts his fingers from deep inside her when a shrill ring vibrates from his discarded jeans on the floor.

Sakura sits up, not bothering to cover her bare breasts as Sasuke gets off the bed and retrieves his phone.

"Sasuke?" She prompts when he lifts the phone to his face and stares at the caller ID silently, face passive. He shoots a glance at her before he finally answers.

"Hello?"

Sakura bites her lip as she watches him, frustrated by the way he keeps his face as grave as stone as he listens to whoever's on the other side. He's always been far too good at masking his expression, but even still, she can always tell when something is amiss.

Sasuke looks to her then, frowning. He passes her the phone. "It's for you."

"Hello?" Sakura says slowly into the speaker, eyebrows furrowed.

"_Sakura_?" A woman snaps, "_Where are you?_"

Guilt drills into her stomach, eyes widening at her mentor's sharp concern.

Sasuke slips back in bed with her, worry evident in his searching gaze.

"What's wrong?" He whispers, running a soothing hand down her bare thigh beneath the covers. Her knees clench at his touch, suddenly hyperaware of the wetness that still sits between her legs.

"I—I, um, had to run home for a shower." She tells Tsunade, placing her hand atop Sasuke's and silently indicating to him that she can't say just yet. He intertwines his fingers with hers. "Why, is everything alright?"

"_Yes, I just thought you'd still be here with Naruto after . . . what happened. Are you coming back?_"

Sakura looks to Sasuke, who looks both confused and apprehensive as he watches her. She reaches up to softly brush the dark bangs from his eyes, smiling a little when he closes them.

"Of course. But maybe not until tomorrow. Is Naruto alright?"

At this, onyx eyes crack open.

"_He's okay, but we're going to keep him for a week just to make sure. Perhaps you should also take a week off, Sakura. I realize that what happened to your boyfriend may have come as a terrifying shock, but I assure you I will be checking on him everyday, so there's no reason to worry. He's just fine_."

"A week?" Sakura echoes, dumbfounded. "You want me to take a week off from work?"

"_With Naruto still recovering, I would prefer not to have a distracted intern, yes. You may come and visit him as you see fit, however, but please take this time to rest. The stress of almost losing a loved one isn't kind to the body nor mind. I want you to take care of yourself._"

Sakura blinks, glancing at Sasuke with a small shrug. "O-Okay."

_"Have a nice evening, Sakura. See you tomorrow."_

Click.

"What happened?" Sasuke asks immediately, taking the phone from her hand and tossing it onto his night stand.

"They're keeping Naruto for a week."

Sasuke remains silent, raising a brow.

"And Tsunade asked me to take the week off."

The Uchiha seems to consider this for a moment, expression thoughtful. Then, he asks seriously, "Are you saying I'm stuck with you in this house, alone, for an entire week?"

Sakura snatches a pillow and attempts to smack the mock-disgust off his face, laughing when he fails at hiding his smirk. He brings his arms up to shield himself as she beats on him with a sack full of feathers. It's only when Sakura pauses in between her pummels that Sasuke plucks the pillow from her hands with ease and chucks it across the room.

He quickly climbs on top of her, suddenly flirty. Their naked bodies throb with need, eager to finish what they started before the phone rang. Sasuke slowly kisses her bottom lip, her chin, beneath her jaw, down her throat before he sucks on her pulse. Sakura arches beneath him, pushing her breasts against his solid chest. She wraps her arms around him, moaning softly as his fingers dip between her thighs and plunge into her core. The heel of his palm stimulates her clit as he works his digits inside her.

Sakura comes on his fingers within minutes, gasping into his mouth.

"You're getting too good at this." She whispers, amused. His fingers continue to pump inside her even after her contractions, walls pulsating around him. Sasuke doesn't respond until after she orgasms a second time.

"You haven't seen anything yet."

\- x -

**A/N:** Whew. *fans self* my ass needs to get laid ASAP. That's the longest smut I think I have ever written. When I die, I hope Satan himself reads this smut back to me. Surely this fic alone will be the sole reason I burn in hell.

_Please don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you think :D_

_Till next time_

_~ Sloshi_


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